PS 3157 
.W58 




JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN: 



A>'D OTHEil 



MISCZSLZiAISrEOXrS FOBMS 



BY 



A SEAMAN. 



»-6#t< 



Chi pud vantarsi 

Sensa difetti ? Esaminando i sui 
Ciascuno imparl a perdonar gli altrui. 

Metast/lsio, 



»90<i4 



NEW-YORK : 

GEORGE C. MORGAiV, FRA]VKLIN SQUARil, 
John Gray & Co. Printers. 

1826. 







OUTRBRS DISTRICT OF NEW-VORK, SS. 

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on tbe tinrd ctay of May, A. D- 
•826 in the fiftieth year of the Independence of the United Stotes of 
llmevZ"johrGray 6f Co.of the said district, have deposited in this office. 
,^iTtUkofabo;k,tl?right whei-eof they claim as proprietors, in the 
V .-ords follow ing, to wit : 
^^ Journals of the Ocean} and other Miscellaneom Poems: by a Seaman. 
, . . . ' .... Chi pu6 vantarsi 
Sensa difetti 1 Esaminando i sui 
Ciascuno imparl a perdonar gli altrui. 

3letustasio" 

Tn conformity to the act of Con-ress of the United States, entitled 

ArArt C the encouragement of learning, by secui.n^ the copies of 

Tnn. Charts and Books, to tlie Authors and Proprietors ot such 

on^'s durifethedme the ein menlioncd." And also to an act, entitled 

■' T, l^t su Sentarj to an act, entitled an act for the enc.jun.gement 

..ne^nin- bv^ecuring the Copies ot Maps, Ch?»rt?.. dtiu Books, to tne 

'« hors ami pro Soil of such copies, during the times tnerem men- 

■iS^raml extending the benefits thc-reof -b the arts ot des.gmng. en- 

-.-Hv:n-, aou etching LisloricaL and other prints. j^^^^^g j^^^L, 

Ckrk of the Soutfiern District of NcwYork. 






CONTENTS. 



The SIRE^'s Cruize, , 17 

Engagement between the Chesapeake and Shannon,.. 43 

Elegiac Stanzas, , 63 

Fitzgeorge's Narrative, Canto I... 65 

Fitzgeorge's Narrative, Canto II 105 

Loss OF THE U. S. Brig Epervier, 133 

Occasional. Elegy, , 13^ 

Lines addressed to the Sisters of Charity, of the New- 
York Orphan Asylum, 161 

The Parting Tear, 164 

Lines written in a Lady's Album, at sea, 166 

LiBERTA A Nice, a translation from the Italian 167 

Lines written for the Album of a young married Lady, . . 1 73 

The Parting Kiss, , 175 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

As Epistolary and Birth-day Ode, addressed to 

" Bonnie Jean.'' 176 

Letters from home, 185 

Stanzas written on arriving- at Valparaiso,.. 188 

-Lines written at Panama addressed to " Bonnie Jean." 191 

Epitaph for Captain C. of the Navy, 193 

To Harriet M 195 

Lines written on a homeward bound passag-e 196 

Lament on the death of the King of the air, 197 

The West Indian Cruiser, 200 

J>ithalamium, 202 

John Q. and the Grand Canal, 205 



PREFACE. 



It is well known that the Midshipmen of the United 
iStates' naval service are required to keep regular Journals 
of their cruises. These Journals ordinarily contain a sim- 
ple record of the ship's progress, astronomical and ther- 
mometrical observations, with some passing remarks on 
the weather. The author of these Journals, for they refer 
to several cruises, was stimulated to the performance by 
some laudatory remarks of a British captain twelve years 
ago, into whose hands his first essay fell by » ight of con- 
quest. He was certainly neither a learned nor a captious 
critic ; but he knew well to make allowances for the buzz 
of a steerage, and perhaps the most disadvantageous cir- 
eumstances under which it is possible to woo the muses. 
The task has afforded amusement for very many leisure 
hours, that might have been more unprofitably occupied ; 
for notwithstanding the duties of the profession, there is 
much of the "tsedium vitas" on board a man of war. A 
considerable portion of the Journals is a mere record of 
facts : the affair of the Chesapeake and Shannon, and the 
Siren's cruise, for example. The descriptive account of 
the loss of the Epervier is of course imaginative. 
C 



X :prefac£. 

If any apology is required to blunt the edge ol' criticibin, 
1 may say with ^Eneas to queen Dido — 

" qii.-eque ipse niiserrima vidi, 

Et quorum pars magi.a fui." ■ 

Firg. J5h. Lib. IT. 

And knowing no Virgil to whom it is probable I might 
owe an apotheosis ; but on the contrary, having suffered 
much wrong and contumely, the author is in the new pre- 
dicament of Poet and Hero — the minstrel of his own acts 
and loves. By publishing, I hope to be read. By the 
young officers I shall be read, for I here make a dedica- 
tion of my preface to them, consequently curiosity will 
prompt tlie peiusal ; and if in the reading, I convert one 
only to the cultivation of the pleasures of the imagination, 
from the more regular amalgamation of "blue blazes," 
and "hot whiskey punch," of which the liberality of their 
country allows them half a pint daily to compound ^vhere- 
withal, I shall be more than repaid for all the censure my 
ephemeral bantling may receive from the learned " cog- 
noscenti ;" for I am but a sailor, and consequently, possess 
the legitimate right of worrying old sliipmates and mess- 
mates with yarns of unfalhomed length, whatever the 
Ikndsmen may say. 

THE AUTHOR 



INTRODUCTION. 



The Author of these Poems ventures, with much diffi- 
dence, to present them to the public. They were mostly 
written at sea, without the most distant thought of ever 
being published, and merely as the amusement of leisure 
iiours. His circumstances and prospects have singularly 
changed since their production ; and he has no hesitation 
in admitting, that other causes than a thirst for literary 
reputation, have operated to bring them before what he 
]iopes will prove an indulgent public. He is perfectly 
aware that presumption may be imputed to him, in ven- 
turing to tread the same path with Falconer, the Only 
})oet v,ho was ever able to overcome and master the 
difficulties of the "tarpaulin phrase." His numbers are 
fsmooth and beautiful, yet abounding in all the technical 
expressions of the peculiar sea-language. The Author 
does not pretend to the merit of such a production as the 
•' Shipwreck;" but he has met, with the best of his abili- 
ties, the same difficulties, in relating the histories of cruises 
on the ocean, during a period of jjitense interest. If 
nothing exists in these pages to instruct or amend, he 
tenture.s boldly to assert, nought will be found to demo- 



XU INTRODUCTION. 

ralize. Perhaps he has erred in not using the poetieal 
license more, and confining himself less to matters of fact. 
He has been frequently engaged in scenes of equal of 
superior moment to many related in these Journals ; but 
they remained unsung, from the very cogent cause, that 
small vessels afford not place or room for such indulgence. 
It was likewise necessary to conceal from some of the 
superiors of the service, with whom he has had the honouL- 
of serving, the existence of any literary taste. The Au- 
thor of these Poems was once seriously admonishe^i by 
his commander, on the great impropriety of having been 
repeatedly seen with a book in the wardroom. To 
have been known as a writer of poetry on board that 
ressel, would have almost amounted to a loss of cast : he 
therefore submitted to circumstances ; and two years of 
a life of peril remain unrecorded, except as the log-book 
would state it — "These 24 hours commence with light 
breezes, (or a gale of wind,) and end the samcr" 

The author, while in the navy, and during a long period 
of time, has seen much to commend, and of course, some 
things to censure : in the latter case, he has been as little 
personal as possible : some events, however, have been 
so shamelessly glaring, that he feels himself under no ob- 
ligation to pass them in silence. He has endeavoured, in 
recording the battle between the Chesapeake and Shan- 
non, to do justice to one brave ship's company, not the less 
meritorious because the more unfortunate ; and as an eye- 
witness and actor in that scene of carnage, has truly re- 
lated the facts as they occurred. He noticed, during that 



INTRODUCTIOX, XJU 

engagement, many instances of individual bravery and 
personal prowess : they remain unhonoured — they were 
unsuccessful ! The arrangements of Lawrence were more 
judicious than were at that period generally supposed. 
He must have succeeded, but for a combination of un- 
happy events, that could neither be foreseen nor guarded 
against. So tremendous was the fire he opened within 
pistol shot of his enemy, that in a space of time so incre- 
dibly short, as not to exceed fifteen minutes by one ofii- 
cial report, and eleven minutes by the other, twenty- 
eight of the Shannon's crew were slain outright, and 
forty-eight severely wounded. They did not enumerate 
those slightly wounded. In the affair of the Chesapeake 
and Leopard, where the fighting was all on one side, and 
which lasted, according to the official report of Commo- 
dore Barron, twenty minutes, there were only three men 
killed and eighteen wounded. When the vast difference 
is considered between the execution done by the Leopard, 
a fifty gun ship, on the nonresisting Chesapeake, and the 
destruction effected by Lawrence on a brave and resisting 
enemy, of equal force, in a much shorter period of time, 
it is a fair and just assumption, that that gallant and meri- 
torious officer would have captured, or destroyed the Leo- 
pard. And he would have sunk the Shannon, as he did 
the Peacock, had he not unfortunately fallen on board her 
in a position where his broadside could not be brought to 
bear. The Author heard the Carpenter of the Shannon 
declare — "If, gentlemen, you could have kept clear of us 
for one half hour longer, and only have prevented us for 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

that time from stopping our shot holes, we must have 
sunk." She had eighteen shot holes between Avind and 
water, while the Chesapeake had not received one that 
admitted a drop of water. Two shots only penetrated 
below the range of the sills of her main deck ports. Du- 
ring the night succeeding the action, all hands were called 
to pump and bail ship, on board the Shannon. The pumps 
were not sufficient to free her. Had the boarders of the 
Chesapeake been regularly called, or had they been aware 
their presence was necessary on the quarter deck, the 
Shannon never could have succeeded in boarding, not 
even with the gallant Brooke at their head. The Author 
commanded the only small party of boarders, consisting 
of fourteen or fifteen men, who heard the verbal summons, 
and gained the quarter deck in good season to have re- 
pelled the enemy, had the number been sufficient. He 
killed with his own hand the first man of the enemy that 
attempted to board the Chesapeake through a quarter 
deck port, where a gun had been dismounted ; but in rapid 
succession his small party fell victims at their posts, to a 
superior number of assailants. The Shannon threw on 
board two hundred men, and after a desperate contest, 
hand to hand, gained possession, and they hauled down 
the American flags themselves. At the close of the short 
contest, the Chesapeake presented a scene i>f horroi-, 
scarcely paralleled. One hundred and fifty of her own 
crew were killed or wounded, and a considerable number 
of the Shannon's men and officers were slain or wounded 
on board our ship, among them Captain Brooke and hi"' 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

ilist lieutenant. The latter ivas killed by a sabre stroke, 
while in the act of hauling down the ensign of the Chesa- 
peake. It was to the Author of these poems, then 
severely wounded, that Captain Lawrence made use of 
the celebrated language, not incorrectly imputed to him. 
when mortally w^ounded, "Dont give up the ship! tell 
riy lads to fire faster! why do they cease firing?" and 
other expressions of similar import. In obedience to the 
order implied, it was attempted to regain the upper deck ; 
but at the steerage hatchway five or six English marines 
were met, w^ho, presenting their bayonets, discharged 
their pieces in the direction of the cock-pit ; showing too 
])lainly that all was lost, and that certain death would fol- 
low- any attempt to proceed farther. 

The remainder of the Journals ond miscellaneous pie- 
ces are left by the Author, unintroduced, to the indulgence 
of those who may ])eruse them. But having in the miscel- 
laneous poems violated one of the customs of poets, 
which, like usages at sea, may become law, he tenders 
his apology for the sin — not of omission, but wilfully 
committed. Many were the " Canzoni e Sonetti," ad- 
dressed to the beautiful Laura, which would have been 
lost to the Vt'orld, had she became "Madama Petrarca." 
The world, therefore, has good reason to rejoice in the 
disappointment of the Poet, which has been productive 
of so much delight and gratification to its reading portioti 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN, 



TKB SXREIf' S CRUIZE. 

What turrets those that high to heaven aspire, 
O'er the firm arch, and raise the gilded spire ? 
Boston's fair town, whose wide expanded sheet 
Of water, shelters all lier num'rous fleet. 
Her fame unsung, unsung her feats of arms, 
Though first to brave the foe and wars alarms. 
To seize the spear, to buckle on the shield, 
To guard her rights through many a bloody field. 
No bard as yet has raised the lofty strain, 
Untold the deeds of those who pressed the plain ; 
On the steep mount what martyred heroes lie. 
Who twice unconquered, forced the foe to fly. 
Though flames wrap blazing cities and ascend, 
For independence still thy sons contend ; 
Pursue the toil through years of glorious strife, 
And drive the foe, or yield the ebbing life : 



18 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAW. 

Till hireling foes who came to win the land, 
Enjoy the *^ narrow house," or fly the strand ; 
'Twfeis thence, equipped with every warlike store^ 
The Siren sailed, to range the ocean o'er. 

Hail Memory ! sole record of the scene, 
Since sunk in distance 'neath the misty screen. 
My native hills, to recollection dear, 
Which for long tedious years did disappear; 
Dictate my tale, while I with truth relate, 
The varying changes of my various fate, 
In bark of smallest class adventuring far. 
To do the deeds of stern relentless war. 

From Fundy's Bay to Orleans' distant bound, 
The hostile ships their foe beleaguered round ; 
Through the cold cheerless nights and winter's day. 
From Maine to Mexic', each port blockading lay. 
The vast o'erwhelming force the border lined. 
Forbid all egress, save when the Northern wind. 
Sweeping and howling from the Arctic pole, 
Came in its strength and bade the ocean roll : 
So strong the blasts that hostile fleets may sail 
In sight, nor reck but how to guard the gale. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN.' 19 

Such time we chose, screened by the veil of nighty 

And far astern the land ere dawn of light. 

No genial zephyr curled in gentle breeze, 

The furious norther scoured along the seas : 

When erst our bark impetuous divides, 

The waves that rudely dash against her sides, 

Accumulating way with every sail, 

That newly wantons to the fav'ring gale. 

Swift to more southern climes the course we steer, 
And howling winter leave far in the rear. 
Scarce twenty times revolving earth had roll'd, 
Since our departure, ere the death-bell toU'd 
For Parker. A chieftain, generous, brave : 
Too early doomed to meet a wat'ry grave. 
In sight of *Palma's isle, whose rugged steeps, 
Rise out of ocean in majestic heaps ; 
There the last sad solemn rites were paid, 
Of friendship's duty to the hero's shade. 
His place of rest is in the deep sea wave, 
The seaman's field of fame, the seaman's grave : 

* One of the Canarv Islands. 



20 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

There rests he where his deeds of glory done, 
'Tis fittest where his laurels bright were won. 
A beauteous widow left to mourn him dead, 
Bereft of hope, ('tis sad when hope has fled ;) 
In vain her supplicating arms implore, 
His manly form returns to her no more. 
To him devoted, a life in grief consumed, 
While Parker lies beneath the wave entombed. 
In search of honour and of martial fame, 
In early youth he from Virginia came ; ' 
Already had he gained the laureat crown, 
For he had helped the Java's ensign down ; 
Determined yet to add to glory's wreath, 
He trode in honour's path, but met with death. 

Continuing the cruise, we roamed the shore, 
The dreary birthright of the tawny Moor. 
Beneath the baneful blaze of vertic sun. 
Steadily pursued the course is run ; 
Afric's shores are ranged, a sandy waste, 
By God adapted to the Arab taste : 
Who cleaves with all his heart to burning sands, 
Despised the riches of more fertile lands. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 21 

From Blanco south an undistinguished plain, 
But for a mount* that rises near the main ; 
Meand'ring the base of this wood-capt hill, 
The thirsty mariner finds a purling rill ; 
Here humble cots arrayed in lowly state, 
Contain the native negro and his mate ; 
Nature unschooled prescribes each selfish wish, 
Her dictates law, adores his charm Fetisch. (a) 
(b) Honour unknown, light sit the bonds of life, 
The ardent potion purchases the wife. 
Awhile the little brig is here embayed, 
By want of water for a time delayed. 
In vain the men exert their utmost skill, 
The empty casks on board they cannot fill ; 
Tremendous surf that laves with foam the shore, 
Roaring proclaims we can't increase the store. 

Three days thus fruitless spent, with fav'ring gale, 
We weigh the anchor and expand the sail ; 
Mild tropic breezes southward waft the bark, 
Ranging the shore by day, and off at dark. 

* Cape Mount. 
D2 



22 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Progressively we pass Elmina's strand, 
The ancient rained work of Belgic hand : 
Holland, once pow'rful, her extended sway 
Embraced each clime beneath the light of day, 
Her fleets superior haughty rode the main, 
Owning no equal on the drear domain ; 
Swept with a broom the channel of their foes, 
Who dared not then withstand their well dealt blows ; 
But prostrate now her then unbroken pow^r, 
Gone with her freedom in a gloomy hour. 

Elmina westward beneath the wave recedes, 
And Cape Coast's whitened parapet succeeds : 
In distance seen a ship at anchor rides, 
Slowly upheaving with the rolling tides. 
Her double row of guns, not yet discerned. 
Forward the Siren flew, the (c) green wave spurned, 
Curling in bubb'ling eddies th' expanded wake. 
And every seaman thinks a prize to take ; 
Till bounding o'er the wave a nearer view. 
Dashed the fond hopes of the rejoicing crew ; 
Two brazen tier of metal are unveiled, 
Which erst in misty distance were concealed. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

T bus in Caffrarian vales the hunting train 
Pursue the Jackall o'er the sandy plain, 
Attained the covert of a lonely dell, 
Astounded ! they descry the lion fell ! 
Turning thus quick they fly in eager haste, 
Retrace their steps upon the desert waste. 

Through clanging blocks the studsail-haliards fly, 
" Hard down to port," is heard the master's cry; 
Quickly to port the ruling helm's inclined, 
And every yard braced sharp upon a wind. 
The artful spider here her net had spread, 
The wary insect from the snare has fled. 
Watching the varyings of our altered course, 
The hostile ship prepares with each resource. 
In thousand folds her topsails deep inlaid, 
Sudden unfolding to the breeze displayed ; 
The tacks are boarded, cables veered away, 
Top gallants floating in the visual ray. 
The cross of England waves o'er British tars. 
Here then is seen Columbia's lovely stars ; 
Her lengthened pendant streaming in the wind. 
Floats o'er the wave, and flutters far behind ; 



24 JOURNALS or THE OCEAN. 

Our crew indignant, frowning view the foe, 
Unequal force is cause of all their wo ; 
No hope of conquest such superior might, 
No hope of safety but in speedy flight. 
Resplendent Sol now hides his crimsoned head, 
Immersed and buried in old Ocean's bed ; 
Dimmed rays of twilight back the coming dark. 
Showing alas too plain the flying bark. 
Long wished for night at length on sable wings, 
A darkened curtain o'er the landscape flings : 
Beneath the sombre gloom the vessels ply. 
From wave to wave in quick succession fly. 
Till dark the gentle breeze scarce filled the sail, 
Topgallants sleeping in the lazy gale ; 
Sudden to windward furious squalls arise, 
And blackened clouds o'ershadow all the skies ; 
From heaven's high vault the liquid torrents pour, 
Fierce lightnings flash, appalling thunders roar ; 
Th' electric fluid streams down the brazen rod, 
Disarms the vengeance of the wrathful god ; 
The hissing sound appals the firmest soul. 
Glancing aside to see destruction roll. 
Thy genius, Franklin, thus had taught to save, 
Directs the bolt uninjuring to the wave. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 25 

Through trumpet hoarse again the master's heard, 
*' Down staysails, in topgallant sails, the word ! (c?) 
Up mainsail, treysail, lay the main yard square, 
Hard up a-Weather, quick the helm bear !" 
The shiv'ring saihs abaft their action lose, 
Her veering prow before the storm dispose ; 
The head yards squared, she flies before the wind, 
Exulting leaves the distanced chase behind. 

Escaped the threatened dangers of the night, 

With pleasure, views the tar, returning light ; 

No more the seas by angry winds disturbed, 

The gentler feelings calm the mind perturbed ; 

Through long perspective he the well known land, 

Sees bursting surf upon his native strand ; 

With joy anticipates th' extatic hour, 

When love resumes once more his balmy power. 

Again they mirthful join the ev'ning reel. 

Unknowing through the mazy dance to wheel ; 

Enough, the music charms th' untutored mind, 

To joy and festive revelry inclined. 

While thus one gangway Terpsicore's thine. 

Some pay devotion to old Bacchus' shrine ; 

The can by turns is passed from lip to lip, 

And Jack's true maid is named at every sip, 



26 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 



Another birth we view in humblest strain, 

They chant the sea song which their loves proclaim ; 

Again some spin the yarn unfathomed length, 

Wear out your patience and exhaust your strength, 

Such is the life the hardy seaman leadsj 

As in transition the calm the gale succeeds : 

No dangers damp the tar's heroic soul, 

He, dancing, foots it round from pole to pole. 

Before the ambient breeze with gentle sweep, 
Skims the light bark along the glassy deep ; 
Until a beauteous isle* appears in view, 
With brightest foliage died of greenest hue, 
Such as the tropic climes for ever yield, 
Where nought deciduous grows in hedge or field ; 
The mountains, verdant hills and valleys green, 
Ope to the sated eye a grateful scene. 

Where blushing Sol first sheds his rising ray. 
Lies sheltered from the winds an ample bay ; 
Remains of former splendour scattered o'er, 
In crumbling ruins lie along the shore. 

* St. Thomas, situate under the equator, in the Gulf of Guinea. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAX. 27 

Here Anna's temples and her mould'ring fanes^ 

Block the lone streets, strew the deserted lanes. 

A wretched few these ruins live among, 

No longer jostling in the crowded throng. 

Thousands her power has made the scourge to feel, 

Beneath the load of slavery to reel ; 

In ships unnumbered o'er the saline wave. 

Launched from her shores has groaned the negro slave ; 

Her reck'ning up and damned tlie odious trade, 

The harmless wretch enjoys his native glade. 

Needed refreshments from the Isle procured, 
And ample store of water stowed on board ; 
Weighed are the anchors, topsails sheeted home, 
Prepared anew the billowy waste to roam. 
In council prudent meet the guiding train. 
Advice to ask, or future tracks explain ; 
Afric's convoy teeming with golden store, 
Shortly expected on the neutral shore ; 
To intercept the fleet strikes on the thought : 
Big with expectant hopes of glory fraught. 
Quickly decreed they'll cruise around the Isle, 
With wily arts of war the foe beguile. 



28 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Amain then sinks the friendly embayed strand, 
And westward concentrates the rifted land ; 
Near where the world's dividing belt is past, 
The dead'ning topsail's flattened to the mast ; 
Here then the foe await with streamers gay, 
Divert suspicion from the wary prey. 

Between the trades of the two temp'rate zones, 
Lies a broad space the sport of cruel storms, 
Or treacherous calms, with heaven apparent face, 
Gloss the smooth ocean with benignant grace ; 
The gently ruffling (c) " cats paw" playful whirls 
Th' extended mirror into curious curls ; 
And wanton zephyr frolics in mid air. 
Sports it unconscious of the gale so near ; 
But eastward view th' horizon gloomy dark, 
A warning to the quiet slumb'ring bark. 

The tempest comes, threatening tornadoes dire, 
Devour the air with fierce electric fire, 
Deep reels the brig beneath the furious blast, 
And round before the wind her prow is cast. 
Eruptive heaven is fraught with horror o'er. 
As oft is seen upon Sicilian shore ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 29 

When dreadful ^Etna breaks its mountain bounds, 

And fills with ruin the adjacent grounds; 

Where shall we seek for safety ! whither fly ! 

When such convulsion shakes the earth and sky 1 

The storm we'll breast it with a seaman's skill, 

Reckless of danger as of good or ill. 

The canvass furled close to the yard is bound, 

And the flat gasket passed around and round : 

The fore-storm-staysail is the only sail 

That is adventured to the rending gale ; 

A-weather and a-lee the sheets conveyed, 

Hauled firmly taut, to either side belayed ; 

Thus kept before the wind she scuds the hour, 

Disarms the storm of half its real power. 

Volumes of vapour gathered south and north, 

Again condensed in torrents now rush forth : 

Thus act the passions in the human mould, 

Collected furies raging uncontrolled ; 

Love, hatred, anger, and the milder grief, 

Alike in falling showers find their relief; 

Assuaged and calmed the tempests cease to rave, 

The flowing tear-drops quell the perturbed wave ; 

In pity heaven seems the storm to still. 

And sympathy for wearied man to feel. 

E 



30 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Swift as th' approach the clouds now fleet away, 
Again on sportive wings soft zephyrs play, 
And brightest beams illume the face of day. 
Uprising in th' extended space descried, 
Majestic surging through the billows glide, 
A stranger sail. Onward she stately drives, 
As the beaked eagle th' ethereal expanse rives, 
When to his craggy cliffs and nestling brood, 
On swiftest pinions cleaves surrounding void. 
From England's western bound, her second mart, 
Hither conducted by the nautic art — 
Six waning moons had told the swarthy host. 
Since their arrival on the savage coast, 
Where Afric's plains bedewed by rich Gaboon, 
Thence northward to the flowing Cameroon ; 
Whose waves pellucid and whose golden sands, 
Unbosom nature's stores to sable bands. 
There luckless Barton had her fill obtained, 
Of palm oil, ebon, teeth, and wood deep stained, 
Homeward returning, the blithe rejoicing crew 
In pleasing dreams their native hills review ; 
But now she nears her deep dissembling foe. 
Prepared to strike the fate avenging blow. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 31 

In unison the floating flags appear, 

Yonder the waving red, St. George's here. 

At length deception vanishes away, 

And verity appears as open day. 

The pointed wheeled artillery prepared, 

The cross succumbs, the stripes and stars are reared, 

Nor vainly reared ; Britannia's quick descends, 

Suppliant, to power victorious bends. 

O'er whirling sheaves the signal haliards run. 

With trembling hands th' ungracious task is done; 

Then launched the boats, filled with a numerous band, 

Beneath the second who waits the high command. 

Th' assembling juniors gather round in haste, 

And with their seniors occupy the waist ; [f) 

Convened I The chief th' attentive silence broke, 

The throng surrounding listened as he spoke : 

^' Our country's stern behest conveyed to me. 

Hear then her will, and reverence the decree ! 

Whate'er of victualling store may be found stowed, 

That carefully remove entire on board : 

Send o'er the pris'ners with convenient speed, 

Ere vengeful fire fills up the fateful deed; 

Immediate then your flaming brands prepare. 

We'll light up darkness with unwonted glare ; 



32 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

What's private's sacred ! Let not polluted hands 
Oppress or injure unenfranchised hands: 
That man who dares insult the fallen foe, 
Shall know my fiercest just resentment glow: 
No ! generously let the conquered feel, 
Americans wield not vindictive steel." 
His hand he waved, the falling oars resound, 
Swift o'er the liquid plain the cutters bound, 
Until they reach the prize's leeward side, 
Then springing o'er her waist the boarders glide. 

Orders accomplished, the commission done, 

The curling fires in circling mazes run, 

Seize the tarred shrouds, and mount the masts on high, 

Glowing and crackling, seem to climb the sky ; 

A pyramid of flame from ocean springs, 

While with a loud lament the welkin rings ; 

With staring eyes the late commanders gaze, 

See all their hopes in one promiscuous blaze ; 

With sorrow keen they view th' effects of war, 

Spreading extended vengeance wide and far: 

Yet fiercer flames in smoky columns rise. 

The seas envelope and obscure the skies ^ 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. S3 



Dim the starred firmament's celestial light, 

And add new horrors to the shades of night : 

These are the sacrifices, justice, thine, 

Avenging freemen offer at thy shrine. 

Aurora, blushing, graced th' horizon's brink, 

Ere the still fuming ruins entombed sink ; 

Ingulfed, the flaming mass, with hissing sound, 

Plunges extinguished in the deep profound ! 

No more the gallant ship flies o'er the seas, 

Nor feels the pressure of the grateful breeze ; 

Beneath the howling storm she reels no more. 

Nor onward drives towards her native shore ; 

But whirled to dark oblivion's endless shade. 

Deep to the drearest dire abode conveyed. 

And thou Adventure, too, wert doomed to meet. 

Within the twins an equal adverse fate : 

When foaming Calabar with rapid tides, 

Sweeps the bright spoil from rugged mountain sides ; 

Descending glides adown the furrowed plain. 

Pouring vast tribute to the briny main: 

Thence filled with the produce of Benin's vales, 

She spread her canvass to the fav'ring gales ; 

But short her date ; six setting suns had seen 

Her homeward course bent o'er the wavy green, 

E 2 



34 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

The seventh, to her sits in eternal night, 
Obscured for ever from ethereal light. 
While thus are waged destructive ways of war, 
Along the coast of Afric wide and far, 
Phoebus obliquely glides to Cancer's sign, 
And hurls in tempests regions near the line. 
His balmy power the frigid arctic feels. 
Melting the day what the long night congeals. 
He gives the north temp'rate sweet smiling spring, 
With all the joys approaching harvests bring, 
The playful children gambol in the dale, 
'Midst all the beauties of the spangled vale ; 
Extensive valleys crowned with waving corn, 
Fair prospects yield, and the rich fields adorn. 
Thy portion, Hesper ! heavenly genius guard ! 
Save thy own climes from war's avenging sword! 
Teach your free sons unbidden to defend. 
Each sister state unasked assistance lend ; 
Let discord dire from thy bright realms be driv'n, 
Reign, harmony ! divine offspring of heav'n ; 
Expcll'd thy bounds, the execrated pest. 
Thy wand'ring sons return with renovated zest. 
The fold, exhausted of his wonted prey. 
Impelled by hunger, rage, or both, obey; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 35 

The monarch of the fields in ampler range, 
Extends. his spoiling to the distant grange; 
Thus roving wide from Guinea's gulf we steer, 
And gradual gain the southern hemisphere. 
Opposing winds, from inexhausted source, 
Insatiate thwart the much desired course, 
At length, the toil o'ercame, we joyful hail 
Angola's coast, and for the harbour sail. 
St. Paulo de Loando, unknown to fame, 
From holy legends has obtained a name, 
A port well sheltered from the raging storm, 
Which oft the regions tropical deform: 
A long low isle bars off the western sea, 
Round whose north point an open passage free, 
Gives easy access to the secure bay; 
Thither the swelling sails the bark convey. 
Here the worn voyagers assistance meet, 
Here hospitable strangers friendly greet; 
Whate'er the tropic climes of Afric yield. 
They know no plenty of the harvest field, 
Ceres within the torrid owns no reign, 
Her golden tresses wave not o'er the plain ; 
Ferina flour formed of Cassava root, 
Cocoa, orange, plantain, banana's fruit: 



36 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

With all the stores the burning zones afford, 
In grateful plenty crown the generous board. 

Behold the brig now seen in radiant pride, 
Her streamers floating o'er th' unruffled tide: 
Proud was the wave the image to reflect, 
In all the pomp of nautic beauty decked; 
Zephyr stood trembling on the balmy wing, 
Fearful abroad his grateful breath to fling; 
Stilled was the billow as heaven serene, 
Nought harms the beauty of the magic scene ; 
Saluting cannon first bedim the air. 
In clouds of smoke obscure the atmosphere ; 
Then gentle west wind curls the rippling seas, 
In timid undulation beneath the breeze ; 
Writhes the fair image in the mystic deep, 
That winding in serpentine mazes creep ; 
Until the form that late resembled life. 
Becomes a chaos in the wayward strife. 
At length from fair Angola's port we sail, 
Spread the light royals to the swift-winged gale; 
From wave to wave the light armed vessel flies. 
And toward her home the brigantinc now plies; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 37 

For thus by him wlio now commands decreed, 
Home we return and with our utmost speed; 
Enough performed for fame, two vessels burned! 
Further accession our brave commander spurned: 
There when arrived how glorious 'twill sound, 
To hear the news gazetted round and round ! 
Oh ! hadst thou Parker lived to see the day, 
The Siren brig had sped another way ; 
The Southern Ocean and the Indian Seas, 
Had felt her reel beneath the varying breeze ; 
The Isles of Spice, their wavy hills had seen. 
Her march along their coasts of verdure green ; 
The great Pacific had not barred her way, 
Nor any clime beneath the light of day. 
And if at last attained that distant strand. 
Where gallant Porter held the chief command ; 
A brighter fame around him might have shone, 
Than the hard combat he sustained alone, 
'Gainst odds unequal and a veteran foe, 
Who well to seize advantages did know. 
Those visions bright now vanish all in air, 
Instead of south, a due west course we steer. 
Soon to the view Ascension's isle appears. 
Which pointed crags high to the clouds uprears ; 



38 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

No drop of water e'er from heaven descends, 

Nor grateful stream through winding valley wends; 

But desert sands and arid wastes appear, 

And thousand sea-birds brood in quiet there. 

(g) The luscious turtle found along the strand, 

Alone invites the mariner to land ; 

So great their pond'rous weight, a frigate's crew 

May dine, and find their numbers all too few, 

To finish what one ample shell affords, 

To crown with plenty all her gen'rous boards. 

Full soon, alas, our cruise is now to end ! 

Free we behold one setting sun descend, 

Since shrouded far below th' horizon's brink, 

(h) We saw Ascension's highest mountains sink. 

Soon as Aurora had night's veil withdrawn, 

And set forth objects with the burst of dawn; 

Far on the leeward beam a ship is seen, 

Distant emerging from the misty screen ; 

The southern trade winds whistle through the shrouds, 

And swift to leeward speed the flying clouds ; 

Swift as the clouds to leeward too we fly, 

The distant stranger nearer to descry; 

And still the course we obstinate pursue. 

Until she plainly shows her ensign blue. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEA^'. 39 

A triple row of guns is now unveiled, 
That fog and mist had heretofore concealed; 
Panic and trepidation then take place, 
With him who lately showed a bolder face ; 
Soon as his mind the peril great has caught, 
Quick by the wind the little brig is brought ; 
With every thread of canvass on the stretch, 
That slightest puff of passing wind may catch. 
The seventy-four braces her pond'rous sails, 
And trims her yards to catch the adverse gales ; 
Her topmast-steering-sail she wise unbinds. 
And by head-reaching her advantage finds ; 
Yet still it would have been a lingering race, 
And many an anxious hour consumed in chase ; 
Perhaps, ere closed, had come the veil of night 
To aid from such superior force our flight. 
We had the weather-gage, each seaman knows 
How difficult with windward ships to close ; 
Short tacks had saved us till the midnight hour, 
Perchance had saved us from the English power ; 
But ere the vertic sun's meridian ray. 
Had shone with splendour of the bright mid-day, 
(i) By high command the leeward guns are hurled 
From their strong beds, then in the ocean whirled ; 



40 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

The cables, anchors, of the leeward side, 
Are likewise tost into the foaming tide ; 
Nor long the boats and spars are left behind, 
The weather cannon too we cumbrous find ; 
One piece alone do we retain for show. 
To bark with, when our flag falls prostrate, low! 
Our trim is lost: now crab-like do we wend, 
Looking one way, our course another bend. 
Soon in our wake the adverse ship is seen, 
And windward soon of where we late had been. 
(j) Now is the time ! and quick it will be past, 
Spread all your canvass on one single mastl 
The brig is light, and swift before the wind, 
She yet may leave th' eluded chase behind, 
Her distant broadside let her send in vain, 
Nor heed her harmless thunder on the main ! 
Brave men before the storm will never quail, 
Tho' iron falls as thick as driving hail. 
It was not done — must I the reason own ? 
The steering-sails had overboard been thrown ! 
And see, already has the sport begun, 
She speaks in language plain from her chase gun ; 
The curling smoke in writhing volumes rise. 
The swift winged bullet skims along the skies; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 41 

Far on the quarter strikes on ocean's face, 

And whistling shrilly ends its speedy race. 

Enough, content, one shot has sure been fired ! 

Who would ask more, or could have more desired? 

That honoured flag, to see it thus descend, 

Thus meanly suppliant, so easy bend, 

From duty, honour, thus to see depart 

Him who commands, does chill the very heart ! 

'Tis true he made to yelp one poor lone hound, 

In salvo, but he slued his breech around, 

And made him bark the other way, for fear 

We might be made to pay, and pay too dear. 

For such presumption as a gun to fire ! 

If pointed true it might excite their ire ! 1 ! 

Now by the gods that rule the earth and sky, 

Fd sooner see my vessel mount on high. 

Blown into shreds not larger than goose quills, 

Than yield her tamely thus to English wills; 

And prisoners, the keen keen taunt to he^r — 

^*Why fought you not your chase guns? They did bear; 

At least you had the chance, by firing well, 

To make your shot among our rigging tell; 

Perhaps some chance of desultory war. 

Had marred some yard or more important spar; 

F 



42 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAX, 

And why before the wind didst not essay ? 
A chance you surely had to get away.'' 

The truth apparent was, although untold, 

Our prudent captain was not overbold : 

(k) What was to Charles of Sweden music sweet. 

Did not our chieftain's ears so kindly greet. 



SIVaAOEMBIVT 



THE CHESAPEAKE AND SHANNON. 



The follounng description of the disastrous battle of the \st June., 1813, was writle^i 
forf and sent to^ a young female friend^ by the author. 



Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answered blows : 
Oiie must prove greatest : while they weigh so even. 

Shakspeare. 



In fair Bostonia's port we lay, 
The morn of that eventful day 
That saw the blood of half our crew, 
Til' ill-fated frigate's decks bedew: 
There moored at anchor, half prepared. 
When sudden to the combat dared, 
A disciplined and vet'ran foe. 
Our victor chief might not forego 
One chance to add to his bright fame ; 
For he had earned a brilliant name, 



44 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

By hurling from the ocean wave 

The gallant Peacock, near the Main ; 

Yet he did generously save, 

By risk of life, her daring train ; 

And the brave remnant clothed and fed. 

Who 'gainst him had in battle bled. 

The day was mild, serene, and clear, 
When Britain's banner streamed in air, 
Bidding defiance to the world; 
Now in our own broad bay unfurled. 

Scarce had the bell the hour tolled, 
And seven reverberating rolled. 
When the high (I) ship-boy on the yard, 
The ever-waking watchful guard ; 
Towards the main directs his eyes. 
And "Sail ho!" from the mast-head cries. 
Though at that moment from the deck. 
The ship appeared a minute speck, 
Upon the ocean's slumb'ring face ; 
Yet well the seaman knew to trace. 
Though at th' horizon's utmost bound, 
With instinct keen and judgment sound, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Her warlike character and strength. 

The glass displays the tall mast's length, 

The distance 'twixt the fore and main, 

{?n) The mizen-mast barque-rigged in vain, 

Proved that a wild and slipp'ry jade 

Will not be taken for a maid, 

Howe'er she may attempt disguise ; 

A coup d'oeil only will suffice. 

{n) The dark black canvass proved it too. 

Our hopes and wishes all were true: 

And as she mounted with the breeze, 

Curling the undulating seas, 

The frowning batt'ry is unveiled, 

That erst in distance was concealed. 

'Twas then she showed that banner blue, 

And spread the red cross to our view ; 

Brave sight to those that pant to tear 

That standard from its station there ; 

And many there were to God that vowed, 

To fall, or die, or see it bowed. 

Ere the sun set on their native hills. 

Or the dew increased their murmuring rills : 

(o) But there were some, or awed or cold, 

Felt not this inspiration bold ; 
F 2 



45 



46 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Who spoke of promises, neglect, 
Of chieftain's broken word, and disrespect 
For those who promises could break. 
Oh ! 'tis not thus, when war should wake 
The noblest passion of the human breast, 
Vengeance for native land oppressed, 
That slightest cause should e'er be given, 
That might excite a murmur even. 
From that base or unthinking few, 
Who stamp the discontented crew. 

But hark ! 'Tis preparation all, 
*' Up anchor !" List, the boatswain's call, 
Re-echoed by each mate resounds, 
And with their din the ear confounds ; 
(p) While whirling capstans heaving round. 
Lift the stout anchors from the ground, 
Then catted, fished, and well confined, 
We spread the canvass to the wind. 
The southern winds the topsails fill, 
The light topgallants loftier still, 
And lighter royals catch a breath, 
The heavier courses feel beneath, ■ 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 47 

The jib and spanker likewise find, 
Tlie pressure of the quart'ring wind. 
The crowd of sail the chief directs, 
Himself each cannon then inspects; 
A triple charge! He sees it done, 
Two round with grape to ev'ry gun. 
And this on ev'ry mind impressed, 
"Be sure to keep your piece depressed, 
Your shot will glance, the ricochet 
Impairs not much its swift-winged way : 
One single shot I must not see. 
Beyond that frigate strike the sea." 
In the mean time the wave we plough, 
And to the bay direct 'the prow, 

Where Britain's banner waving high, 

The cool deliberate foe. 

To combat dares his enemy. 

Pardon me maid, if in my lays, 

Sometimes I use "tarpaulin phrase;" 

Without, I could not well express 

What should be seen in native dress ; 

Take from the savage drapery wild, 

He then .appears less nature's child ; 



I5i JOURNAL OF THE OCEAX. 

But with the wampum, plume and knife, 
The Indian stands confessed to life. 

And here, perhaps, thou wouldst to know 

How felt the hoart, in sight the foe 1 

1 was ^' a mother's much loved boy, 

Her fondest, best, her eldest jo}^;" 

At parting, she had thus expressed, 

When to the matron bosom pressed, 

Her love maternal for a son, 

When erst the seaman's life begun : 

And prayed that God her child would bless. 

With all a mother's tenderness. 

This parent, sisters, loved I well. 

Yea, more than uncouth rhymes can tell ; 

And when I saw the coming fight. 

And knew that ere the shades of night. 

Where many meet, that few should part, 

A wild throb passed across this heart ; 

For I had seen a mother's tear 

Flow but at thought of danger near, 

That son who now in bloody strife, 

For country, honour, dares his life ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 49 

One momentary pang foregoes — 
For danger — No ! for others' woes, 
For tears that this eventful fray, 
May cause to flow another day : 
Proud, he would not exchange his place, 
For power, reward, or lady's grace : 
No ! nought upon this earthly sphere, 
Would make him quit his station there. 
'Tis past, 'tis o'er, and duty's cares 
Awake the soul, the mind prepares. 
To meet the storm that soon will rage, 
When such dire enemies engage. 

(q) What sound is that ! The thrilling cheer, 

Of friends, who in a sail-boat near, 

The lifted hat, and adieu tell 

To many a long and last farewell : 

'Twas grateful to the ear. 
The peal we sent it back again, 
The hollow ship, the isles, the main, 

Prolonged the echoing cheer. 

The light is passed, with canvass pressed, 
Armed at all points, prepared the best 



50 JOURNALS OF THE OCEA->r. 

The time allowed, the ship advances, 
Dashing the foam where th' sunbeam dances, 
(r) And mimic Iris round the bows, 
Sportive play as the wave she ploughs. 
It was a beauteous awful scene. 
To see her glide through the billows green, 
While sullen far beneath the lee, 
Expectant lay her enemy ; 
Silent awaiting with lessened sail. 
The foe that wings it on the gale. 

Already had the distant land, 

The rocks, the shore, the sea-beat strand, 

And clouds and hills of darkened hue, 

Commingling melted to the view; 

So blended, mixed, the shades appeared. 

That none but the eye of the seaman reared, 

Could trace distinct, or point the line. 

Where earth, or air, or seas disjoin ; 

When close aboard is seen to float 

A little bark, a pink-stern boat. 

And as we pass her rapid by. 

The skipper thus is heard to cry; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 51 

(.<;) ^' A challenge I am sent to bear 

From him commands that frigate there, 

To you." Brave Lawrence turned and smiled, 

For 'twas a herald rude and wild, 

AVhose strength of voice had suited well, 

In age of chivalry to tell, 

Before the feudal castle's moat. 

Defiance from his stentor throat — 

" The flag that waves o'er yonder foes, 

Is challenge enough." He said to those 

Who gathered round, "What class? what size 

Yon ship ?" The herald quick replies, 

'^ She's much about your own," and past, 

For we had neared, approaching fast, 

AVith croud of sail, the foe. 
The royals slumbered in the gale. 
But now reduced the lofty sail, 

Prepared to strike the blow. 
'' Point well the guns, be careful not 
To spend in vain a single shot," 
Was the last order the youthful aid 
From the commander below conveved. 



52 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Why does yon ship her topsails fill, 

Who late upon the wave lay still ? 

And why does she to seaward ply, 

As if she would th' encounter fly ? 

With well known circumstance combined, 

A dark suspicion crossed the mind! 

Can gallant foe who sought the fight, 

Now seek for aid, or shun in flight, 

The battle he had singly dared ; 

And with a ship so unprepared ! 

Far on the distant wave may lie 

Companion of her treachery ! 

And onward thus she leads t' employ 

Base stratagem and foul decoy ! 

For we had seen, day after day. 

The Tenedos and Shannon lay, 

Co-cruisers in the distant bay ; 

And we had then, their pride had tamed, 

Two frigates, well known and far famed, 

But for the senior who saw double, 

And prudent kept him clear of trouble. 

Had we that challenge bold received, 

Th' unjust surmise we'd ne'er believed: 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 53 

Each written word, to Broke 'tis due, 

Bespoke him chieftain brave and true ; 

Who would not for his honour's sake, 

A base advantage ever take. 

'Twas his intent at sea to cruise, 

Until his foe might bravely choose 

T' avow him ready for the strife, 

With energy and practice rife. 

But see that lip that curls in scorn, 

Says, ^' No delay ! no, not till morn ! 

Train at the hind a shotted gun ! 

Teach him from equal foe to run ! 

Was it for this he sought the fight, 

Now Safety seeks in rapid flight ?" 

An eighteen pounder's instant trained, 

And quick as e'er the sight is gained, 

The glancing ball along the wave, 

Speaks a plain language to the brave ; 

And ere its whistling sound so shrill, 

And deeper tones of the gun are still, 

The topsail flat-aback is prest 

With bellying folds against the mast. 

Indignant wrath, that flashing burns, 

The hunted lion quickly turns ; 
G 



54 JOURNALS OF THE OCEA>% 

Who if he e'er affects to fly, 
Does but recoil in mockery. — 
Approaches now that moment, when, 
Shall test the nerve of stoutest men ; 
Each quartered on the battle's verge, 
Deeds of high emprise stands to urge ; 
And ranged along the leeward side, 
Prepares to purple ocean's tide. 
It is indeed a gallant show, 
The lofty ship, the hardy crew 
That fore and aft do ready stand, 
' Training their guns with steady hand;, 
Waiting with cool and temp'rate zeal, 
The time to make the foemen feel ; 
For yet, a little on the bow, 
But fast he drops, and even now 
The forward guns can bear! 
The blazing match is tossed in air — 
Yet once again the sight is tried — 
They bear! instant the match is plied. 
The balls they did not spend in vain, 
For ranks of Britons tumbled slain, 
My shipmates too, felt, fiercely felt, 
The well aimed blows the Briton dealt. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 55 



The combat thickens, the sides are riven, 
'Tis dark as midnight's clouded heaven ; 
When not a star illumes the sky, 
To bless the lonely wanderer's eye ; 
But as the vivid lightning's flash 
Across the sight will sudden dash, 
Increasing the deep obscurity; 
Such was the cannon's blood-red blaze, 
Fiercely seen through the thickened maze 
Of sulphurous smoke. Their deep-toned thunder, 
Seemed to shake the sphere asunder, 
And musketry's incessant rattle, 
Sounds feeble mid the louder battle ; 
But each gives wing to vengeance' bail, 
Sonue by the iron tempest fall, 
To fracturing splints some yield their breath. 
And others find a leaden death. 



Oh I could name who fought, who fled, 
And who were numbered with the dead. 
In that short term of wrath and strife. 

Where to have been and still survive, 
^Twould seem that more than mortal life, 

Were giv'n the man that he might live. 



.'>6 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

The waves in storms shall wake their knell, 
Who on that day, fell, bravely fell ; 
Let him to whx)m belongs the name, 
That mantles with the blush of shame, 
The cheek of her that gave him birth, 
Be nameless as devoid of worth. 

(t) Our guns no longer now can bear ! 

Must we the iron storm forbear? 

Each man at all my guns is still: 

But 'tis not for the want of will ! 

No; no ! for something has befell. 

What 'tis, below, we cannot tell. 

And though with folded arms we stand, 

Each fiercer grasps his glistening brand. — 

Hark! mid the rattling peals of death, 

Was it command of dying breath? 

(u) ^' Boarders away ! Seize firm your glaive, 

And rush on deck the ship to save!'* 

One sole division only heard, 

So feebly uttered was the word ; 

With rapid step and vengeance' glance, 

They to the fated deck advance. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

There bleeding prostrate in their gore, 

The quarter-deck was covered o'er, 

With all those brave defenders, who 

So lately made a gallant show; 

And had to God in vigour vowed 

To fall, or see the red cross bowed : 

True to their oaths, they bleeding lay, 

The victims of that dreadful day. 

Some care it took to step among 

The mangled corse, t' avoid the throng 

Of those wlio dying at their post, 

Have lost their lives, no honour lost ! 

Who heard that last and sad appeal, ' 

Of him who no more wields his steel ? 

In number few, too few to save, 

By desp'rate courage e'er so brave. 

The dying words from Lawrence' lip, 

Were, ^^ brave lads, dont give up the ship; 

Save the fair stars and stripes from shame, 

Save mine, your own, your country's fame I" 

And well had they the charge obeyed, 

That few who came on deck to bleed j 
G2 



57 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEA.\. 

If men were formed of granite rock, 
And might withstand the bullet shock : 
By deeds, not words, the few replied, 
Opposed their breasts, and falling died. 

Whose form is that amid the slaughter, 
Whose sword bright flashes in the water? 
'Tis that Lieutenant,* young and brave, 
Who finds in battle glory's grave : 
ilis heart was stout as e'er wielded brand. 
Yet still I think I view him stand — 
'Twas when the ships were foul aboard, 
The daring foe had passed the word, 

To board his enemy sword in hand. 
Pale, wounded, leaning 'gainst a mast, 
His pulse beat high though blood ran fast, 
Staining the planks and seamed decks, 
Where men and spars lay listless wrecks ; 
Forming such ruin, 'twould make run cold 
The warrior's blood to hear it told: 
For never yet, destruction whirled, 
So dread, so ample had been hurled, 

+ Ludlow. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 59 

As in that hour of deadly hate. 
When those ships met of equal rate. 
My left arm raised, I pointing cried, 
(The right hung shattered by my side, 
That side too ebbed the purple tide,) 
" Behold the boarding enemy, 

The quarter even now they gain !" 
'Twas he replied, '^ Men, follow me 1'' 
But bravery essayed in vain. 

Compelled the useless sword to yield, 

The nerveless arm refused to wield. 

(w) Here, maiden, let me draw the veil, 

Nor shock thy ear the horrid tale, 

That manhood should conceal ; 

For I would not a foeman's crimes 

Should freeze thy soul, or stain my rhymes. 

When man has ceased t' oppose his glaive, 
In battle dire and fell, 

•Tis mercy, godlike, great, to save, 
And treat the pris'ner well. 

One pleasing thought alone remains, 

T' have struck our flag, no seaman stains, 



60 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Of our ill-fated crew: 
And well I could the slain recount, 
Who to the desp'rate task did mount, 

If numbered not a few^ 
Brittania's best and bravest fell, 
And many a spirit sunk to hell,* 
Ere in the terrible melee, 
They hailed them victors in th' affray. 
(x) Unlike that frigate, now our boast, 
That gave a wreath, a laurel lost; 
Lost ere one drop of blood was shed, 
Or punctured vein from scratch had bled ; 
Struck from her gaff, her ensign low. 
And that too to a Moslem foe ! ! ! 
f Slaves they became, were bought, were sold, 
And all their value paid in gold. 

* The poet wishes to convey no other idea by this term than that 
of Hades. 

t No reflection is Jiere meant to officers and men, who must obey 
their superior. It should not be in the power of any coAvard to sur- 
render a ship without a blow, or to heave his guns overboard. There 
ehould be a statute provision, requiring the approbation of a majority 
of the commissioned sea officers, before the captain could do cither ; 
and emj)owering them to deprive him of his command, if he attempt- 
ed its violation. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. (>1 

So base a breed might well have stayed, 
Within the harem walls a guard, 
And, capon-like, have strutted o'er 
The courts, that eunuchs did before. 
Decatur came, redeemed her name, 
And won a wreath, mid wreaths of flame. 
With keen regret, allow one tear, 
A tribute to his early bier; 
Whatever his faults, atoned how deep ! 
A clod of earth can even speak ! 
While he to whom the shame is due, 
Does pass for chieftain brave and true. 
In vain, these limbs were marred in vain. 
For over heaps of freemen slain. 
The foe resistless bridged their way ; 
But each progressive step that day, 
Showed friend and foe in gory death, 
Fierce grasped as when they yielded breath. 
Bathed in my own, my comrade's blood, 
Of those who longest last withstood 
The dire attack, 'twas mine to live, 
A wretched pris'ner, for those to grieve. 



62 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Who nobly died ia freedom's cause, 
For seamen's rights and nations' laws. 
There is not, maid, on earth a name, 
Expressive of that deadly shame, 
That brave men feel when overcome, 
Almost at threshold of their home — 
'Tis more than death, I've tasted, know 
The bitter feelings of that wo : 
For when the desp'rate cry was raised 
By those where mercy was refused; 
"Blow up the ship!" terrific sound! 
Shed no new horrors then around. 
I did not then a finger raise, 
T' avert destruction's sudden blaze ; 
Though well I knew upon the wing, 
Instanter 'twould that moment bring 
The crush of ships, the death of those, 
My bleeding friends, my victor foes, 
Involved in one promiscuous fate, 
None left, the story to relate. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAX. 63 

The combat is over, the brave are at rest, 

The hammock now shrouds the cold lifeless form; 

A nd many there are of the first and the best, 
Who no more shall breast the missile or storm. 

Oh, who shall relate to their friends the sad story, 

How when living they fought ! how when dead pale and 
gory ! 

One funeral rite served the friend and the foe, 
One chapter sufficed from the record of God, 

To plunge in the depths of the ocean below, 
To give to their long and lasting abode. 

The victims of battle, in youth's flower perished; 

A name only left, to be loved, to be cherished. 

And fell there no tear for the fate of the dead, 

As on deck lay the maimed, as the sliglit wounded 
stood ? 

The wounds of the brave had not yet ceased to bleed, 
And the tears that were wept, were drops of their blood : 

No mother was there o'er their manly forms bending, 

Rude seamen alone felt the scene too heart rending. 



64 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

I turned from the spot with a sickness of grief, 
With a feeling of pain unknown till that hour ; 

The passage from health to the grave was so brief! 
A grave where the shark and the dog-fish devour ! 

That I crept to the dark nook the steerage gloom shaded, 

To mourn o'er my friends whose bright manhood had 
faded. 

And others shall mourn the result of the fight, 

In the deep sea are laid husband, father, and son; 

And sorrow shall come like the shades of the night, 
And veil in the dark weed the fair widowed one. 

Hope is past, all is lost to the desolate beauty. 

Save the patriot thought, they died in their duty. 



FXTZaZSORGS'S NARKATZVE 



IN 



TWO CANTOS. 



Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? 
Arid. Not a hair perished ! 

Shakspearc. 



CANTO I. 



The firefly slept, no star of light 

Shone on that drear September night; 

The lightning oft in fitful gleam, 

Shot o'er the ocean its forked beam, 

Glared to th' horizon's distant bound; 

Illumining the sea around ; 

And groaning ocean's mountain waves, 

Thundered o'er the shore it laves, 
H 



6ft JOURNALS or THE OCEAN. 

In other days than those of storm, 

When nature wears a milder form ; 

Beyond that darkling precipice, 

A spot so fair, so lovely is, 

'Twould seem 'twere formed for love and bliss. 

Meandering from cerulean mountains. 

The tribute of a thousand fountains, 

From westward flows so pure a stream. 

None purer meets the bright sunbeam! 

Eastward the everlasting sea, 

Rolls on in solemn majesty. 

Far from the crowd, th' unthinking throng, 

A sire, a daughter, these scenes among, 

Dispensing happiness around, 

Lived, by the nobler virtues crowned. 

For long revolving years to come, 
Within the seaman's humble home ; 
This storm shall be the ev'ning theme. 
When by the faggot's fainting beam. 
Widows who lost their husbands then. 
And mothers bereft of gallant men; 
Who sought o'er rolling seas to gain, 
A scanty wherewith to maintain 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 67 

Those they revered, shall sadly tell 

The passing years since then befell, 

The loss of all that earth had given, 

From their embrace for ever riven. 

While o'er the cheek the trickling tear 

Unconscious steals, yet hope to fear 

Succeeds. The dimmed eye brightens ; 

R-elieved, th' oppressed heart lightens : 

For yet upon some foreign strand, 

Shipwrecked, they may have gained the land ; 

Again those aged eyes may see, 

And melt in th' embrace of ecstasy. 

The son beloved, the partner dear, 

May yet return to comfort her 

Who waking, still bedews the pillow, 

For him who rests beneath the billow. 

The wild wind whistled loud and shrill. 
Through forests of the vale and hill ; 
Prostrating tall and ancient oaks, 
As if they felt the woodman's strokes: 
Shivered, they fall upon the ground, 
Crushing the younger growth around. 



68 JOURNALS or THE OCEA>N. 

Though safe, secure from ev'ry harm, 
Protected by the parent arm ; 
Thoughtful the maiden sate reclined, 
And shuddered at each blast of wind, 
That rattling by the casement drear, 
Excited strange unusual fear. 
The parent nor the cause divined, 
Nor reason, but gently thus enjoined; 
**Will not my Caroline explain, 
What gives my much loved daughter pain ? 
Harmless for thee, the tempest blast, 
As heretofore, will soon be past ; 
Thy tim'rous mind's sure on the wing, 
In search of dire imagining !" 
At once the lovely maid replied, 
•**My fear is great, nor is't denied; 

Not for myself, I'm safe with thee, 
But for those who were this even, 
The sport of winds, and tempest driven, 

Upon the groaning storm-lashed sea. 
This ev'ning wand 'ring to yon steep, 
Where far and wide the wat'ry deep, 
Bares its rough bosom to the eye, 
Directed from those crags on high ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 6* 

Methought I saw in distant view, 

A white sail fluttering to the wind ; 
And yet it was so distant too, 

I fear it was, though ill defined ; 

For dreadful was the furious blast, 

And whitened all the ocean waste. 

My father ! who those daring men. 

Who quitting their homes and native glen, 

Risk in such tempestuous strife, 

Heaven's precious boon, the gift of life?" 

With warmth of youth, the sire replied, 

For he had ploughed the ocean's tide ; 

And knew and felt the keen privations. 

That suffer those in seamen's stations ; 

The link connects the human chain 

Of distant climes, the isles, the main, 

'* Brave are those men, and gen'rous too, 

Who form the proud ship's gallant crew; 

To earth's remotest regions far, 

In peace or more disastrous war, 

They bear with unremitted toil. 

The products of their native soil; 

And when their country wants their aid, 

Her call is ever prompt obeyed ; 
H2 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAIT. 

Then thund'ring storms of iron fly, 
From their well aimed artillery. 
Inured to danger, the seaman's eye, 
Sees the vast wave rolling high ; 
Commands his ship by sails and helm, 
Nor fears the seas may overwhelm ; 
His heart swells with the raging storm. 
Though exposed to all his hardy form, 
Unshrinking meets the tempest's power.'*' 
Was't fancy ? No ! at this very hour, 
By the light of the last electric spark, 
Near yon bleak shore a weary bark, 
Is labouring seen to clear the lee, 
]Mid the rude shocks of a mountainous sea. 
'•Oh may they ride safe on that stormy water!"' 
Cried Cornelman's blooming daughter ; 
While to the rocks the parent ran, 
To aid his fellow-being, man. 
Destruction threats the pinnace crew, 
As near the hideous strand they drew : 
Vain the attempt the rocks to weather, 
Each foaming surge propels them thither. 
'Tis then the helmsman's gallant form, 
Descried through rolling surf and storm, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 71 

Directs to that dread shore the prow, 

So long avoided, even now, 

Resistless winds alone can drive, 

When hopes so few of safety live. 

Already the last bursting surge, 

That shoreward the shattered bark may urge* 

Thunders, and midst its rudest shocks, 

Drives far within projecting rocks ! 

At that dread moment, when instant death, 

Frowned from above, gaped underneath, 

And fragile breasts expect the shock 

Of contact with the naked rock ! 

Say did one coward start convulse 

One hardy limb, or shake the pulse 

Of those so near to yield their breath? 
No ! firm and true the seaman's soul, 
To Him who made yon planets roll, 
Gives the last thought with placid mind, 
To his Creator's will resigned. 
Such they believed, when hurled between 
Those crags terrific, another scene 
That inlet oped, screened from the wave, 
The shore the waters gently lave* 



7JJ JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

There screaming seabirds love to pillow, 

When storms like this excite the billow. 

The pinnace moored, and safe on land, 

Cornelman greets them on the strand, 

^' Sons of ocean ! hither driven, 

Protected by the arm of heaven; 

For mid the raging of the seas, 

And rocks so rough so rude as these, 

Nought but the guardian hand divine 

Had saved the lives of those and thine ; 

Thrice welcome to my humble cot," 

He said, and pointed to the spot, 

Where fate had cast his happy lot. 

** Th' Almighty arm alone could save," 

The stranger cried, <'in that mountainous wave! 

Yes, there I thought destruction sure, 

When forced, I turned my prow to shore. 

With the bright living lights of space, 

Where the great work of God we trace ; 

Though hid in drear obscurity now, 

Their eternal fires for ever glow; 

We own the great and bounteous hand 

That saved us on this dreadful strand.'' 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 73 

He said, then up the path they glide, 
And gained the rocks that crowned the tide. 
There paused and to that ocean turned, 
Whose lucid waves yet sparkling burned. 
So paused Arion, when shipwrecked cast, 
Saved on a wreck, a floating mast ; 
He, claml)ering, gained that rocky height, 
Where Athens long diffused her light, 
And there beyond the ocean's spray. 

Gazed listless on that vast abyss, 
Where the last parting beam of day, 

Had seemed to set on that life of his. 
Cornelman saw the lurid charm 

That wrapt the seaman's awe-struck soul, 
He kindly intertwined his arm, 

And led from whence the wild waves roll. 

Pale was that beauty's angel form. 
When she beheld the youthful stranger; 

Saved from the fury of the storm, 

And threatened death, though now past danger. 

*'Some tender mother's hope and bliss, 

Though strayed from her, are wrapt in his: 



74 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Had she but seen that much loved life, 
Exposed to such tempestuous strife, 
Heaven had been wearied with her prayers^ 
And gave the boon, or taken hers." 
Such were the thoughts that drew the tear, 
From that bright eye of azure there. 
Blest is the heart with feeling warm, 
That owns the sympathetic charm ; 
Where pity dwells, there virtue too 
Inspires th' impassioned tear it drew ; 
And there it dwelt pure as the beam, 

A parting sun sheds o'er yon mountain ; 
Or her own purling crystal stream, 

Where goldfish glitter in the fountain. 
Who would not like an Adam rove, 
Bereft of all but woman's love 1 
Sooner with her awhile and die. 
Than live in immortality ! 

But hardships past require rest, 
To which Cornelman prest his guest ; 
For peril met, and long travail, 
During the so late threatening gale, 



JOURNALS or THE OCEAN. 70 

Was pictured in the nerveless form, 
So long the sport of ocean's storm ; 
Whose strength aroused when danger near, 
Now fainting drooped, relieved from care ; 
The adieus said, and evening prayers, 

They part to seek the downy pillow; 
And those forget their rural cares, 

And this the roaring of the billow. 

The dreary hour of midnight come, 

Unbarred the portals of the soul : 
The wand'ring senses all become, 

Like as when fleeting shadows roll, 
A nothing — something uncombined. 
An unsubstantial mind. 
Awhile the shadow takes a form, 
And to th' imagination warm. 
Seems warriors, demons, men in air, 
That sport or rush to combat there. 
'Tis thus connected sounds, in sleep, 
Make such impressions strong and deep, 
That friends beloved, who distant are, 
Waking, appear to live in air. 



76 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAX. 

'Twas one of those half real dreams, 
That voices form from tinkling streams, 
And conjuring fancy seems to hear, 
What mem'ry keeps distinct and clear, 
Of converse strange, and passing word. 
Remembered well, and response heard. 
What voice was that so lonely rung, 
As if from the deep the sound had sprung? 
It was the spirit of the ocean sung. 
"Fitzgeorge, arise!" it named the stranger, 
**I warn thee of impending danger! 
Thy oath commands thy gleaming brand 
T' unsheathe upon a distant land; 
Thy country's foe shall they not feel^ 
The keen edge of thy practised steel ? 
Shall others strike the moslem power, 
And Fitzgeorge in his lady's bower?" 
And then was sung in milder measure, 
In tones that soothed the soul with pleasure; 
Beauty's charms, as fair and bright, 
As autumn ray of solar light; 
The speaking eye of azure hue, 
Vieing with cerulean blue. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. ' 77 

The Grecian face, the tresses fair, 
Luxuriant of the nut-brown hair; 
The form the Roman artist chose, 
Where life in stone apparent glows ; 
The beauteous foot, th' elastic tread, 
That harms not cowslip in its bed ; 
And then was sung the charm divine, 
When youth and beauty soul combine ! 
In lower tones the voice now thrilled. 
The conscious dreamer's ears scarce filled. 
" Eros' child beheld her charms. 
Too heedless of his owu keen arms! 
The wounded urchin freely bled, 
And hastening to his mother, fled ! 
Sapient then who wisely flies. 
Enthusiast from the wild emprise !" 
" Witness, disturber of my sleep, 
How throbs my heart, how wild and deep ! 
Omen of what it feels when waking. 
More than well may cause its breaking. 
And am I then, indeed to prove 
The pangs of unrequited love ?" 



78 JOURNALS or THK OCEAN. 

'Tis vanished, gone, the spirit fled, 
Nor shape, nor semblance longer had ; 
Leaving the remembrance only 
Of vision strange, so drear and lonely ! 
As his last word apparent broke, 
The youth he from the trance awoke ; 
And felt a burning tear was stealing 
Adown his cheek, aroused by feeling, 
Now conscious brushed away the shame, 
Awakened from the midnight dream. 

The next sun's rays were bright and pure, 
And promised for a time t'endure ; 
But after strife of winds and waves, 
Sometime ere ocean stilly laves 
The rocks that rugged bound its sides. 
Unyielding to the force of tides. 
This the young leader knew full well, 
That he could not his adieu tell ; 
Till the next sun had rose and shed 
His kindling influence o'er his head. 
Yet anxious care we well might trace, 
Depictured in the sunburnt face; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 79 

The distant ship at anchor lay, 
Within yon broad and spacious bay, 
Waiting alone the fav'ring gale, 
To weigh her anchors, spread her sail. 
The wind now fair, her boat's delay 
Will cause an anxious feverish day; 
For those who ventured life, to save 
A seaman from his wat'ry grave : 
When loud the tempest raved and shrill, 
From the topgallant-yard he fell; 
Rushed to the boat a gallant few, 
And they now form the pinnace' crew, 
Reckless of winds and waves the strife, 
They saved a brother sailor's life ; 
But driven far beneath the lee, 
Beyond that Cape protects from sea ; 
The fury of the storm they dared, 
But hope was lost, when night appeared. 
The greetings of the morning o'er, 
The seaman sought the surf-beat shore ; 
x4.nd earnest there his God before, 
Returned his thanks, an off 'ring pure, 



80 JOURNALS or THE OCEAN. 

To that dread power, that sovereign good, 

That saved him from the threatening flood. 

'Twas then to contemplation given, 

He thought on childhood, those days were heaven ; 

And later scenes engrossed a share 

Of busy thought and anxious care: 

How safety came when given to death. 

He thought he'd drawn his last life's breath ; 

And how a beauty's angel form 

Received him past the threatened danger ; 
When rescued from the waves and storm, 

He came unknown a forlorn stranger. 
Did he not wish him better known? 
Yes ! that his heart was ready to own. 
He did not love, yet he admired, 
And something wished and half desired 
He had been born a neighb'ring swain, 
That he might tread the selfsame plain; 
And Caroline carve on the beechen tree, 
With loving shepherd's simplicity. 
But many the shades of diff'rence 'twixt 
This fancied life, and the one he'd fixed. 



JOURNALS OP THE OCEAN SI 

The setting sun, the shades of even, 

The owlet has her warning given; 

Rejoicing loud the day gone by, 

That kept her pent a solitary. 

Each warns the rambler to the «pot, 

Where stands Cornelman's rural cot. 

But what was Fitzgeorge' great surprise, 

And vision strange that met his eyes ; 

He thought to meet a daughter, sire, 

But hears the sounds of harp and lyre, 

And a bright polished circle rose 

To greet him as the doors unclose. 

The sounds are hushed, a maid advances, 

Light as the spray on wave that dances ; 

In gentlest phrase herself addrest, 

To him that was her father's guest ; 

'^ See, Fitzgeorge, T have ta'en the care 

T' assemble here the neighb'ring fair; 

That you might see and know to night, 

We were not here unsocial quite : 

And though beyond the city gaze, 

We sometimes bask upon those rays 
12 



52 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAW- 

Of intellectual living light, 
That sparkle there refulgent bright. 
Now if you are the friend of song, 
Go mingle with the playful throng, 
Expectant of your joining there; 

Go lose a ring, your heart, or glove ! 
Why Fitzgeorge ? why so grave an air ? 

A song redeems, or tale of love I" 
She said, and led where beauty's eye 
Received the stranger courteously. 
Already the youthful sport progressed, 
Bracelets and rings, with half the rest, 
A lady's toilet could well spare, 
Seized in a pile collected were; 
When Fitzgeorge' fortune's turn to prove, 
He guessed, and lost his glove. 
Enough, agreed, the pawns arranged, 
Shall now return from whence estranged; 
And well they know, and strict obey 
W^hat penalty enforced to pay. 
Many the maid that struck the lyre, 

Or sweetly raised the vocal song; 
Some knew to wiken martial fire. 

Some dwfcit ihe shades among ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 88 

But there was one supremely blest 

With talent far above the rest, 

Whose melting tone's peculiar swell, 

Like tinkling of a silver bell, 

That he who hears will ne'er forget 

The sound that once his ears has met. 

Oh ! never have I heard again, 

Save once, it was a convent strain, 

In fair Sicilia's balmy isle, 

A human voice could thus beguile. 

Here sang the maid of joy's abode, 

There, the pale vot'ress of her God. 

Each, mistress of the pow'rful song, 

And all th' enchantments there belong, 

Could rouse the soul with strange appealing, 

And overflow with bursts of feeling. 

Who rises now, his pawn redeems ? 

Who half abashed, so backward seems? 

'Tis one of those reluctant swains, 

Who dares not venture his own strains ; 

But warbles in his rude translation, 

Lines that suited his vocation; 



84 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

And the tempest* he rehearses, 
In tender, wild, unpolished verses. 
" Fear not Nyssa, that hither Pve returned, 
To speak again of love you lately spurned; 
'Tis o'er. But see, alas! heaven's overcast, 
A sudden tempest overtakes us fast. 
Fly to the cottage, save thy tender flock, 
I ran to warn thee from th' impending shock; 
Observe the threat'ning clouds ! yet no affright! 
Whirlwinds of dust obscure the solar light ! 
The falling leaves ! the groaning woods complain ! 
The frightened birds for covert leave the plain I 
Behold the humid drops! the storm unfolds! 
See the fierce lightning ! how the thunder rolls ! 
What can we do ? Too late the flock to save I 
Seek refuge with me in yon friendly cave. 

But you tremble. Oh my treasure, 
But you palpitate my heart; 

Fear not, though 'twould be a pleasure, 
Now to play the lover's part. 

* La tempesta del Metastasio. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 85 

While the lurid lightning gleams, 

From thee maid I will not move ; 
When the sun's restored his beams, 
I will fly ungrateful love. 
Secure within the bosom of this rock, 
Be seated. No lightning's flash, nor thunder's shock, 
E'er rudely passed the hallowed bound prescribed, 
For the sacred tree that grows on every side, 
Where'er it springs, sets bounds to heaven's wrath. 
Sit down my love, and sweet regain thy breath : 
And wherefore thus you timorously press 
My hand, as if I'd fly thy dear caress ! 
The world a wreck, doubt that I'd from thee part, 
Long this moment's desired my ardent heart. 
Gods! were it true and no cajolement here, 
Thy tenderness, the fruit of love, not fear ! ! 
At least, forbear deception — Yet who knows ! 
Yet beam thy eyes ! thy cheek with blushes glows ! 
And love, the inmate of thy gentle breast! 
Was't modesty, and not disdain, confest 
Thy rigour 1 Perhaps excess of fear 
Softens the soul, and melts to love the fair ! 



36 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Speak; what say'st thou ? have I the truth divined? 
Why downcast looks 1 why blush ? why smile ? how blind 
The lover is ! Speak not my best beloved, 
That smile, that blush, what more could words have proved ? 

Black clouds are sped away, 
A storm, a breath of balm; 

I've passed a morn of joy, 

A day without alloy. 

Since then my soul is calm, 

Amid tempestuous weather, 

No longer care I whether, 

If again's serene the day." 

A gentler swain ne'er penned the fold, 
Than he who rises now to speak; 
Who blushed to harm the tend'rest flower, 
That budded in the desert brake : 
And though he loves, his love's untold, 

In song he only hints its power; 
For whether he fears his Emma cold, 

Or expects disdain to meet that hour, 
When his fond passion he confesses, 
That declaration he suppresses. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAK. 87 

And thus repeats in softened tonej 
What he once felt was all his own ; 
When from the pathway side, a flower 
Was plucked, and died within the hour. 

Lovely, I found thee, blooming mild, 

Uncultured sweets dispensing; 
I plucked thee from thy native wild, 

And breathed thy scent enchanting. 

But see decay of nature's bloom, 

You droop your roseate head. 
Reproaching me thy early doom, 

That robbed the wildered bed. 

For had I left thee on the ground, 

To blush and bloom unseen ; 
Ambrosia yet had hung around, 

Thy fancied natal scene. 



Ah ! would I then restore my flower 
Its pristine charms again ; 

But life has lost its acting power, 
The wish were only vain. 



88 JOURNALS OP THE OCEAN. 

One rapt'rous moment, then a tear, 
For fleeting pleasure wo ; 

Grant heaven mankind may forbear, 
To win enjoyments so. 

Be mine the kindlier part to rear 
The emblem of ray flower; 

Restore the smile, dispel the tear, 
The sunbeam for the shower. 

What pledge is that displayed to view? 
Fitzgeorge! that glove belongs to you; 
For its redemption, 'tis decreed. 
That thou shah sing, or speak, or read ; 
Thus leaving with the stranger guest, 
A choice denied to all the rest. 
A moment's pause, he silence broke. 
And thus he most respectful spoke, 
*' 'Twould not be justice to the fair, 
To those who are assembled here, 
AVhose song, whose poesy, and lyre, 
By turns have waked my bosom's fire, 



JOURNALS OP THE OCEAN. 89 

To disavow, or to deny 

A taste indulged for poetry. 

With your consent, I'll then rehearse 

A little story told in verse." 

An approbating murmur ran, 

And thus the tale the youth began. 

Calmed is the tempest, hushed the deep 
That lately lashed the rugged steep. 
Where the surges beat so furiously ; 
The moon shines o'er the quiet sea, 
And ev'ry star reflects the wave, 
That twinkles in the vast concave : 
The sails lie flapping to the mast, 
No longer felt the storm that's past. 

Then softly sweep the sounding string, 
Inspire my lays with kindred fire ; 
Let me enraptured hear the lyre, 

Ere of other's woes I sing. 
Let music's charms attune the ear, 
Poetic fancy then may reign, 
And floating on Pegasean wing. 

Cull all the sweets of earth and air. 
K 



Sw JOURNALS or THE OCEAIV. 

Hence drew the bards of other days, 
The power to swell their chieftahis' praise, 
The graceful numbers could not roll, 
Without conveying to the soul, 

An ecstacy divine. 
Far other cares the time employs, 
Of him who yet but sips thy joys, 

A vot'ry of the nine. 

To sing th' ungracious theme is mine, — 

Here lovely Caroline struck the chords, 
Responsive to the seaman's words ; 
And by a glance expressive sent. 
Showed to arouse the soul she meant ; 
And as her fingers kissed the strings, 
All life and animation sings. 

Hail! to the ship, that so stately advances, 

Under the radiant, the bright beaming star; 
Long may those stripes in her banner that glances, 
Scourge the bold foe in the tempest of war. 
When the cannon's red glare, 
Bright shall flash through the air, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 91 

Bravely the iron storm they'll hurl on the foe ; 

Their victor eagle then, 

Fluttering o'er freemen, 
Shall perch on the mast-head, his keen glance below. 

Ours is no glory chance won on the ocean, 

No transient laurels that fade as they blow ; 
Tn strife they were won, midst the battle's commotion, 
Torn from the brows of a lion-hearted foe. 

Then hallowed be each day, 

When in the stubborn fray. 
The "star spangled banner" triumphantly waved; 

Proud on the victory dwell, 

Louder yet the shout swell. 
Ocean's paths are free now, seamea's rights are saved. 

The youth he thanked the gen'rous maid, 

Who thus had lent her friendly aid, 

And then resumed the line — 

To sing th' ungracious theme is mine, 

Of Barrataria's sunburnt isle, 

Where corsairs rendezvoused ere while : 



9^ JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

O'er many a bloody deed done there. 
The trembling earth and sighing air 
Mourn, as o'er fens the midnight blast 
Sweeps by th' impracticable waste. 
Here, scattered on the oozy sands, 
Are wrecks of ships, and half-burnt brands ; 
Arid barks that were the ocean's pride, 
No longer float on ocean's tide ; 
But their black hulks now range the shore, 
Where waves incessant beat them o'er ; 
The pirate trophies on the beach, 
Beacons terrific ! this warning teach ; 

Fly stranger ! fly the guilty strand ! 
Where bleeding victims shudd'ring died, 
Where all but death itself denied, 

B}"^ the ferocious, savage band ; 
No feeling heart there strove to save 
The wretched prisoner from the grave : 
Doomed all alike to perish there, 
The brave, the humble, and the fair ; 
The souls of fiends possessed the race, 
Were painted in each scoundrel face, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAlV. 9S 

The low'ring trow of one expressed 
The murdVous thoughts of all the rest. 
Such were the crew who sought the glen, 

When o'er the foaming, roaring water, 
The black barge filled with cruel men. 

Hither conveyed Edwerner's daughter, 
Twelve nights and dark, since o'er the wave, 

Torn from a tender parent's care, 
Weeping she prayed that ocean's grave 

Might shroud her with her father there. 
Listless the crew had heard her cries, 

When she implored that sacred life; 
Plunged in the wave he struggling dies, 

Beneath the corsair's reeking knife. 
'Twas then, Eliza, Oh, filial love ! 
Though reason fled, to madness drove, 
Seeking in death one last embrace, 
One farewell kiss on that loved face ; 
Agile she sprung to gain those arms, 
That guarded her infantile charms, 

*^ Haste, man the barge!" the corsair cries, 

** Haste, haste, or else our victim dies! 

We must not lose the beauteous prize!" 
K2 



94 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Twice hid beneath the briny water, 
Sunk Edwerner's wretched daughter : 
Oh ! had she never rose again, 
The muse had sung no plaintive strain, 

Of Barrataria's isle. 
Thy mis'ry ! who can paint fair maid ? 
Thus into pirate hands betrayed ! 

Thy hard fate who ])eguile ? 
No sympathy, no soul refined, 
To soothe the terrors of thy mind ! 
The sole solace of death denied, 
Vou sought by plunging in the tide. 

* Colorados ! hide thy rude heaps ! 
Deep down in ocean sink thy steeps! 

For they were witness then, 
Let not the mariner pointing say, 
'Twas near those isles the pirate lay, 

The onset to begin. 
And such the cruel deeds that were 
Frequent reacted there. 

*= Rocky islets near the coast of Cuba. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 9$ 

No ! rather cease t'oppose the tides, 
That everlasting lash thy sides, 
Than be the theme of fear. 

But hark ! what sounds of oars 
Approach again those desolated shores ? 
What barges those now gain the strand ? 
That manned with a careless jovial band, 

Would seem a hunting train ! 
They are Columbia's own brave tars, 
Defenders of her stripes and stars, 

That plough the liquid plain. 
Their object now to hunt the steer, 
Or chase the nimbler footed deer. 
In numbers through the plains they rove , 
And ply the shot, and thin the drove. 
Swift in their front the quarry flies, 
In swift pursuit the huntsman hies ; 
Till with their numerous sporting train. 
They cleared the fields, the wood to gain. 
'Twas then a wounded heifer strayed, 
Alone a youth flew through the glade ; 



90 JOURNALS OF TH^ OCEaS. 

Till winding through the devious way, 
Chance led him where his panting prey, 
Far within the sombre dell, 
Sad refuge gained, expiring fell. 
Here in this deep recess of shade, 
Rude fashioned, rose a pallisade, 
Circling in humble style around, 
Sacred, secured the hallowed ground. 
One moment Edwin paused to trace 
His egress from the dreary place ; 
Advancing then he reached the pale, 
Inscribed in verse, he read the tale, 

Some feeling hand recorded. 
Perhaps one of the hapless crew. 
Too late, repentant would renew 

Life, where he death awarded. 
'' Entombed within this humble fence, 
Lies injured virtue, innocence; 
In early youth by fate betrayed, 
Fierce pirates seized the beauteous maid ; 
Hither conveyed the fragile form, 
The lily bowed beneath the storm ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 97 

The fairer part now rests in heaven : 
Stop passing stranger, heave one sigh, 
Shed one tear in sympathy." 
Tho' few the lines, a tale was told, 
To rouse the passionless and cold ; 
But here a youth leaned o'er the bier, 
To pay the tribute of the tear, 
With all the Brutus in his blood I 
But now he kneels, where erst he stood, 
Besought the Judge of earth and heaven, 
The corsair's crimes be not forgiven ; 
Then o'er the second Lucrece' sod, 
Vowed to the great Almighty God ; 
If fortuned so, perchance is met 
That cruel monster, vile Laf^te, 
Deep his dark bosom keen shall feel 
The fierce vindictive edge of steel ; 
No funeral rites, no passing-bell. 
Shall toll his spirit down to hell ; 
But croaking ravens, fluttering by, 
Foresee their festive revelry. 



98 JOURx\ALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Pity the maid who early fell, 

For there was in her much loved land, 
A youth who knew to love, too well, 

The form that hallows this distant strand. 
Oft he revisits the sea-beat shore. 

Where the green wave ever pillows ; 
And wistful looks are daily cast o'er. 

The expansive foaming billows. 
Long does he watch th' increasing sail, 

That gradual lifts itself to view, 
And as she wings it on the gale, 

All young love's fondest hopes renew. 
Hopes oft renewed, alas too vain! 

To heaven the injured spirit fled, 
Eliza! 'Tis not yours again, 

In mis'ry this earthly sphere to tread. 
At length the story reached the youth, 
Emblem of constancy and truth; 
The mind to love a victim fell. 
For oh ! he knew to love too well .' 
No tear of grief bedims the eye. 
That late beamed so expressively ; 



JOU&NALS OF THE OCEAX. 

For now he roams a maniac wild, 

A.nd calls himself *^keen sorrow's child." 

The tale is told, the glove redeemed, 
The lips are mute, the eyes that beamed, 
No longer flash, but calmly wait, 
From beauty's eye the story's fate. 
Here now before them stands confest, 

The youth who roamed the guilty glen: 
Whose varying feature well exprest 

His feeling to'ard the pirate men. 
If language failed, they felt the spirit. 
And rendered homage due to merit. 

Eliza's fate had drawn many a sigh, 
But th' enchantress of the rural throng, 
And mistress of the vocal song. 

Saw sadness veil each beaming eye : 
She playful struck again the lyre. 
And thus the sounds transpire. 

Aurora tipped the eastern sky. 

When lovely Emma lonely strayed; 



100 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

With equal care the painted fly, 

Ambrosial sweet? sought o'er the mead. 
Alternately the flow'rets yield, 

The chaste embrace, the nectar sip; 
Till fluttering o'er the spangled field, 

At length it sate on Emma's lip. 
''Busy insect! what disposes 

Thy airy foot to linger here ?" 
" I thought I kissed two sister roses," 

On flitting wing then cleft the air. 
One moment past, a wand'ring bee 

Lights, and instinctive thrusts its sting: 
^* Wanton! why thus injure me, 

What have I done, thou cruel thing?" 
«' Let thy beauty plead my cause, 

'Twas fancy into error led, 
I mistook thee for a rose," 

Then hastened from the damask bed. 
Wearied by the morning ramble. 

Sleep he lent his drowsy aid; 
Beneath the hawthorn and the bramble, 

He stole the senses of the maid. 



JOrRNALS or THE OCEAN. 101 

Invoking heaven to make her his, 

Henry saw, and won the prize ; 
He gently stole the balmy kiss, 

Ere the virgin oped her eyes, 
'' Who disturbs m}^ sweet repose ?" 

Upon his knees th' enraptured swain 
Swore he took her for a rose, 

But eager sighed to sin again. 

The last vibration's ling'ring sound 
Had died, and all was quiet round ; 
Ere this the universal thought, 
First murm'ring, then distinctly caught. 
*' She raised no mortal to the skies, 

She brings no angel down ; 
But strains seraphic such as these, 

Well, well deserve a crown!" 

The last of the assembled swains, 

His pledged forfeit now redeems; 
By warbling in his native strains. 

The theme of all his waking dreams, 



102 JOURNALS or THE OCEAA. 

Cecilia's praise. The bard, how well 
He knew Cecilia's praise to tell, 
Let the comparison suffice, 
He felt a lover, saw with lover's eyes. 

Thee I salute, Oh spring! in native rhyme, 
Fair season, thou! unfurrowed yet by time! 
The youthful year sheds round its influence mild, 
And all creation wantons as the child. 
Each tender plant, by turns each opening flower 
Enjoys the bright sun's ray, the cooling shower, 
Tainting with sweet perfumes the mellow air. 
And earth may boast her heav'nly atmosphere. 
'Twas then Cecilia tripped it unconfined. 
Her tresses trembling in the playful wind; 
With lightsome steps she winds the shades among, 
Until arrested by the warbling throng: 
The airy songsters deep within the grove, 
Tell o'er and o'er their little tales of love; 
The gently thrilling notes they first prolong, 
And then they burst with all the power of song. 
No human art could ever give to sound. 
Such magic tones as those re-echoed round. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 103 

The maid enraptured, cried, "I love the nine, 

Oft have I worshipped at the muse's shrine ; 

But numbers such as these could never roll, 

AVhere art dictates, or lends her stern control : 

Too oft the pompous studied phrase combine, 

To lengthen out the senseless sounding line; 

But nature's beauties ever scanned with ease. 

The more examined, more will ever please." 

Cecilia ! no longer linger here. 

The muse invites thee to the gay parterre ; 

There cull the flow'rets of the fairest hue, 

Behold the jessamine, the vi'let too ; 

And wouldst thou yet the loveliest that blows ] 

Choose of a hundred kinds the beauteous rose, 

Collected, interweave the eglantine, 

And spring's rich tribute round thy brows entwine 

The maid obeyed, and from the spangled bed, 

Wove a fair chaplet for the fairer head ; 

With curls luxuriant mingling in the round. 

Upon that front of snow the wreath she bound. 

Which playful seems to court the passing breeze, 

Diverting zephyr from the shadowy trees. 



104 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

The bard asks not the courteous to decide, 
The muse impartial leans to neither side ; 
Let him the umpire be who scorns the fair, 
If such exists, here then he must declare, 
Thy beauties, Spring, deserve the noblest lays ! 
But crowned, Cecilia wins, and wears the bays ! 



i;>D OF CANTO I, 



rXTZeZ!0R6£'S ZgrAB.B.ATXVB. 

CANTO II. 



And for the rest o' th' fleet, " 

they all have met again, 

And are upon the Mediterranean flote- 

Shakspeare. 



In youth's impassioned, earliest dawn, 

When brilliant prospects ope to view; 
And flow'ry paths o'er vale and lawn, 

Invite their mazes to pursue : 
The distant hills, the mountains green, 

That float in rich perspective far ; 
And the still ruder, bolder scene, 

Of crags that soar with clouds to war, 

Are charming all, and juvenile hours 

Are spent in the wish to scale those towers; 

Whence nature delights in majestic mood, 

To pour her streams to the ocean's flood. 
L 2 



106 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

'Tis but ambition's latent fires, 

Imbedded in the brilliant steel : 
The touch of flint alone requires 
. To flash the spark, the light reveal. 
If e'er the love of fame burned bright^ 

Within the patriot bosom clear; 
'Twas kindled for the naval fight, 

When England first provoked to war. 
Full well indeed her minions kenned 
The nerve and muscle of our land, 
And like the wretch on Afric's shore, 
Who from his native country tore, 
By force or fraud, the blackamoor: 
They seized our seamen on the wave. 
The pressed man's fate worse than the slave, 
Their sea-girt isle t' assist, to save. 
My kinsmen 'neath their power had bowed. 
On English decks their blood had flowed, 
And vengeance was the impulse strong, 
With glory to redress the wrong, 
That sent Fitzgeorge in early life, 
To meet the foe in battle strife. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 107 

Such were the causes sealed the vow 
Allegiant, brought him hither now; 
For still he owned its pristine force, 
And still pursued his wand'ring course. 
But other perils now arise, 
A dazzling light were those bright eyes, 
Absent may darken a future day, 

When ocean's volumes roll between ; 
The heart that felt their burning ray, 

And beauty's form of graceful mien. 
Such feelings these the soul confest. 
And strong emotion filled that breast; 
As forcibly recurred to thought, 
Duty with all its dangers fraught: 
For war yet raged on ocean's tide. 
And ships embattled side by side, 
In sanguinary contest dyed 
The deep blue wave a crimson flood : 
A moment's pause alone ensued ; 
So high the charm of glory ran. 
The softer feelings of the man 



108 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Yield to his country's stern commands, 
To punish Afric's pirate bands. 
Resolved, forewarned, and thus prepared, 
Presumptuous thus the seaman dared; 
"Thou god of love! with all thy train, 

With all thy suite of smiles and pleasure; 
Select a happier, gentler swain, 

With nights for love, and days for leisure : 
Far other cares than these be mine, 
Defied thy parent's power and thine." 
Challenged his power, the god of love 
Flew angered from his throne above ; 
Drew the best arrow from his quiver, 
And bent that bow unerring ever: 
Nought but the shield of the "blue-eyed maid," 
Had saved the wound the shaft has made ! 
She interposed no aegis then, 
That shielded oft her fav'rite men. 
On earth below the mischief done. 
He seeks the bright realms of the sun ; 
While reascending at his leisure, 
The boy of smiles and laughing pleasure, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 10* 

Did he not bend again that yew, 

Ere, shrouded in empyreal blue, 

Mid azure, gold, he sunk from sight, 

In regions of ethereal light ? 

A distant day may yet reveal, 

Though now an impenetrable seal 

Obscures, conceals, like night's dark veil, 

Over the fairest landscape flung, 

Where if the glitt'ring daylight hung, 

Beauties that it does conceal, 

Would warm th' impassioned soul to feel ; 

But perchance there are rocks and sands. 
The bark of life, on every day, 
Ready to wreck on her homeward way, 

And yet she safely wins the lands: 
Then Fitzgeorge seek not time to probe, 
Nor rob him of the impervious robe, 

In which he shrouded stands. 
Determined then, no love's revealed, 
His burning passion is concealed ; 
But to the maid he then began, 
And o'er his earlier life he ran ; 



110 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Told how his childish hours were past, 
How sweet they glided by, how fast, 
And ere his manhood was attained, 
Or sixteen summers he had gained, 
Devoted boy ! the sport of storms, 

His path the wild ungoverned deep, 
Nature's drearest rudest forms, 

Had rocked him to his nightly sleep ! 
"And couldst ihou sleep, the maiden cried, 
When tempests roll yon foaming tide?" 
He placed his hand upon his breast, 
'' While this was quiet, calm at rest ; 
Unmoved I viewed the storms of life, 
And wildest elementary strife. 
In battle too the dang'rous post, 
A boarder's filled, till all was lost; 
My duty in the fight was done, 
Tho' no bright laurels there were won ; 
Th' ill felted ship could not be saved. 
Though death was met, or reckless braved. 
Sailors, a superstitious race, 
Would say 'twas a predestined case ; 



JOURNALS or THE OCEAK. Ill 

And from the day her keel was laid, 
Unfortunate she was decreed. 
At length exch-inged and armed again, 
Once more I plough the liquid plain ; 
And speed on ocean mid the blaze 
Of flaming ships, beneath the rays 
Of Afric's burning vertic sun : 

There ta'en again, no skill to save. 
Again the foe ray liberty wonj 

By fate decreed, once more a slave. 
Long mid Afric's southern mountains, 

Her sandy vales and heated streams ; 
I've sighed for my cooler native fountains. 

And niglitly seen them in my dreams: 
Years roiled away in foreign land, 
Before I saw my native strand; 
But late returned, abroad I speed, 
Perhaps in fight again to bleed : 
Promoted to a higher grade. 
Alert my orders I've obeyed. 
Advancement came as milder day. 

After a night of stormy weather; 



112 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Illumining with gentler ray, 

The boist'rous path that brought me hither. 
But one revolving sun has past, 
Since driven by the furious blast. 
My boat on yonder beach was cast : 
My shipmates still are in suspense, 
I must away and far from hence ; 
They know not yet if those survive, 
Who scarce in that rude sea might live ; 
The winds have changed, the swell abates, 
The noble ship her pinnace waits: 
To distant seas for years I go, 
Duty commands it must be so, 
Yet I would say — to thee would tell, 
Before I say my last farewell ; 
Misfortune dire has borne me down, 
Had early marked me for her own ; 
But all my former ills to this. 
Were purest drops of heavenly bliss; 
This morning straying o'er the fields, 
Where all the beauties nature yields, 
Bedeck the vale to yonder shore, 
Scattered in rich profusion o'er: 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 118 

Awhile enjoyed the varied scene, 
The rolling surf, the foliage green ; 
I wandered to the forest glade, 
To taste the cool refreshing shade ; 
Then far within the drear confines 
Of ancient oaks and lofty pines : 
At length my wildered feet would trace 
Their egress from the lonely place ; 
Futile th' attempt, the deep'ning glen, 
Untrod by feet of mortal men, 
Seemed the retreat of fairy elves, 

When driven from the world beside; 
Safe they might here secrete themselves, 

Unharmed for ever here reside ; 

Perchance it was that fairy knave. 

That other ships could wreck and save, 

Ariel ycleped, by whose delusion, 

Enchantments wove, and strange illusion, 

Huge crags and rocks my path surround, 

My farther progress seem to bound. 

Here, where the sweet briar, eglantine. 

Would cause surprise to find them springing; 
M 



It4 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Where matted brambles sole might twine, 

And merry mock-birds spare their singing: 
On thornless stem of snow-white rose, 
A bright corolla radiant glows: 
The petals fair of richest die, 
With heaven's expanded arch may vie 
In lustrous beauty, leaves of hue 
Approaching the cerulean blue, 
And yet they were a shade of green, 
When in the light refulgent seen. 
Was it a flower of earthy mould, 
Where on each leaf was plainly told ; 
Who wins the Carolinean rose. 
Gains the best gift heaven bestows ; 
On earth it is the mystic sign, 
Secures the mortal joys divine. 
Forsaken once, 'tis fate's command, 
Till years have past, no daring hand 
Shall tempt again, nor hither trace 
The path to this sequestered place. 
Long gazed these eyes upon the flower 
That grew more beauteous with the hour. 



m. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN^ 

Fair maiden couldst thou know the charm 

That bound with withes this once nerved arm ; 

Which erst with pride on ocean's water, 

Had flashed the brand amid the slaughter ; 

When rashly vent'ring I essayed 

To win the rose of the fairy glade ; 

At least thy pity sure would glow, 

If all my feeling thou couldst know. 

Oh ! can I see and envy not, 

The trees that grow on this sacred spot : 

•Or the herds which graze on yonder meadow, 

That sometimes seek their cooling shadow I 

i must away, and that betimes, 

For years to rove through distant climes. 

Blest had I been, if doomed for ever 

To linger here and wander never : 

I then had lived to love and breathe 

The nectar sweets of the roseate wreath. 

While I vow, believe, if heaven ever, 

Orants a return to my native river ; 

ni hie me to the forest drear, 

And seek with more than usual car«^ 



m 



116 JOURNALS OF THE OCEATT. 

The flower that graces the desert shade, 
To heal the wound its love has made." 
Responsive word she did not speak; 
The burning blush, the crimsoned cheek. 
Showed plainly that she knew too well 
To judge his heart, who dared not tell, 
But under the feigned allegory, 
His love so new in fabled story : 
Swift as the northern light doth glow> 
Then vanish o'er the hills of snow ; 
As transient as that vivid gleam, 
The telltale conscious flush doth seem; 
And something more than calmness now. 
Is throned upon her virgin brow. 

Say, lovely woman, when thy charms 

Have wrought their work to other's harms,. 

When nature to her intent true, 

Has given the victory to you, 

Why should the knowledge pain create. 

And unreservedness abate? 

And oft at that especial time, 

As if to love thee were a crime, 



JOtJUNALS OF THE OCEAN. 117 

Within thy bosoms germinate, 

For him who woos unfeeling hate. 

While Fitzgeorge did his life unfold. 

And spoke of risks, of battles told. 

Or tales of pris'nment did relate, 

The varyings of her face were great; 

Such as might weli aja artless child 

Display at hearing stories wild, 

Which though believed, are strangely drestj 

And keen emotion was expressed, 

At every scene of danger past, 

By battle, or the threatening blast. 

At length the maid — " Must you again, 

Fitzgeorge unto the dreary main, 

Breast the rude storm and angry foes, 

The wrath of heaven and man oppose ? 

Why seek not your own native glade. 

And there beneath the forest shade, 

Enjoy the life that God has given, 

Before that life by foes is riven ? 

Think how thy friends disconsolate, 

Would mourn Fitzgeorge' untimely fate! 
M % 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEA^'. 

And wouldst thou mourn, dear friendly maid? 

Was almost spoke — the youth essayed 

To keep the treacherous spirit down, 

That had with converse bolder grown. 

*^ Thanks, generous maiden," he replied, 

"I speed again o'er ocean's tide: 

When I received my country's sword, 

With solemn vow I gave my word ; 

To fight her battles true and brave, 

To perish, or her rights to save. 

I have not yet the post attained. 

Where rank impunity does give. 
Delay to me my honour stained ! 

A life of virtue could not save ! 
To pardon, God is ready ever; 
But my superiors, never, never ! 
Farewell! farewell! my swelling sail, 
The seamen loosen to the gale." 
" Stay, Fitzgeorge, stay ! the thunders roll 1 
At least, my father should control ! 
Your ship ungained, another storm 
The face of ocean will deform ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 119 

And see the cloudy volumes rise, 
Curling and writhing in the skies, 
Where yonder speck of blue is seen. 
Beyond that point of verdant green." 
**No signs are these of storm begun, 
The thunder is my signal gun, 
The writhing cloud, sulphureous smoke, 
That upward through' the mist has broke, 
Yon speck of blue with snow-white stars, 
Bespeaks command o'er vet'ran tars ; 
And see how swift to the mast-head 
Rises yon flag of white and red; 
Summons familiar known to all, 
That boats when absent, does recall." 

But whither turned ? ah, whither went he ? 

Over the blue wave's foaming tide, 
Behold the pinnace speed in safety, 

And now he gains the vessel's side. 
Far, oh far the winds have driven 

The majestic ship in stately pride; 
And lasting gales from the west are given, 

To speed her o'er the salt sea tide. 



120 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

*Tis sunset now in the eastern world, 
The stars and stripes of his country furled ; 
'Tis then he recounts the lingering hours, 
That yet must waste in his native bowers, 
Ere the cooling shade of summer even 
• Is lit again by the star of heaven : 
In spirit then he wanders home, 
Where ever he had delighted to roam ; 
And dwells for hours that sweet shade under, 
Where love's first ties were rent asunder. 
'Tis ever thus the ray of feeling, 

The sensuous heart more keenly feels ; 
As the last beam of twilight's stealing, 

And night on the day imprints her seals. 

The broad Atlantic's foaming wave, 
That rolls o'er many a coral cave, 
And shelly beds of sunbright hue. 
And pearls too deep for mortal view : 
These with all its antres vast, 
With press of sail were rapid past; 
So swift, that scarce the lazy shark 
May consort with the flying bark ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 1£1 

And though the dolphin fleelly glides, 
As swift us aught that cuts the tides, 
He wearies in the ling'ring race^ 
And springs to start the finny chase ; 
The flying-fish, the demi-bird, 
By her deep plunge was often stirred ; 
And darting to their airy flight, 
Fell victims to the ocean's kite; 
The wondrous huge leviathan, 
Astounded saw the work of man^ 
As on the wave she gaily sped, 
And like a frightened minnow fled. 

Why float the stripes and stars unfurled ? 
Th' Herculean pillars of the world, 
Rugged uprise on either beam, 
Of giant growth above the stream ; 
From English fort, and Spanish tower, 
And walls that own the Turkish power ; 
On either hand, their banners greet 
In friendship the advancing fleet. 
Yon pillared rock,* a brighter gem 
Ne'er graced a nation's diadem ; 

* Gibraltar. 



]$ft JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Britannia's 'twas to win, to wear 
Glory and domination there ; 
Despite th' assembled power of Spain, 
Whose bravest warriors bled in vain. 
A famished band the rock maintain : 
Though hundreds scarce possessed the place, 
They heaped on thousands deep disgrace ; 
Nor strength, nor skill, nor threats suffice, 
Nor of thousands the bleeding sacrifice ; 
Not even though (aa) Hispania's queen 
Had ta'en her seat, and vowed the scene 
She'd never leave, till high in air 
The flag of Spain was waving there ; 
Nor till a peace was given the world ; 
Then courtesy the flag unfurled, 
Cancelled the vow the sovereign made : 
Her conscientious scruples laid, 
To leave the hill accounts her free, 
With pure unsullied sanctity. 

When to the desp'rate charge advancing. 
The fiery war-horse champs the curb ; 

And gaily o'er the field is prancing, 
Sounded the trump at signal word ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. IgS 

The gallant riders yield the rein, 
But still their strict command retain ; 
And onward dash the foe to greet, 
Till point to point their falchions meet. 
Thus swiftly bound along the main, 
Deep furrowing the liquid plain ; 
And such that squadron's ardent zeal, 
That prest beneath the canvass reel; 
Yet still the chieftain chides the gale, 
Permits to spread the lofty sail. 
Ceuta's white walls, Tarifa's shore, 
Appear above the wave no more ; 
Nor long do they retain the sight 
Of fortress, tower, or rocky height : 
Beneath the sea the land recedes, 
While east the flying squadron speeds. 
And why so distant o'er the waste 
Of waters, speed they 1 why such haste ? 
Vengeance in iron storms to shower 
Upon Algiers' piratic power. 
For while the States firmly arose, 
Their rights to save, or punish foes, 



124 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN- 

Who with impunity had gone, 

From crime to insult hurrying on, 

Till patience wearied out by years 

Of tame endurance, the pressed man's tears. 

Awakened vengeful ire at length; 

The trial came, high in her strength, 

The mistress of the West arose, 

And wisdom taught insulting foes. 

-Twas then the time the Moslem chose, 

To plunder and make slaves of those 

He deemed the weaker power : 

Mistaken knave ! fast comes the hour, 

When justice retributive shall pay, 

With blood, thy crimes of yesterday : 

Distance nor lapse of time shall save 

Thee, pirate of the olden wave, 

From the keen steel that freemen wield, 

That sterner foe has forced to yield. 

Though Europe, to her deep disgrace, 

May all pay tribute to thy race. 

You've yet to learn, one power demands 

Exemption ; what she thus commands, 



lOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 125 

Well to support a chieftain* flies, 

Reared in a school of victories. 

His name ! why should I sound that name. 

Already given to deathless fame ? 

His deeds will grace the future page, 

The naval hero of his age. 

And when in strife of after day, 
When fleets in closing battle join; 
And sliip to ship throughout the line, 

Our navy bears the palm away, 
'Twill then be said, 'tis due to thee, 
Thy example led to victory. 
While truth may yet one day reveal. 
Who laurels won and who could steal, 
Filch from the public tongue a name, 
And shroud in rank, inglorious shame; 
And from their place of power and trust. 
Spurn right and justice in the dust. 

'Twas one of those bright silver days, 
When pour the sun's unclouded rays ; 

* Decatur. 



126 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

And zephyr breathed in gentle breeze, 

Rippling the surface of the seas. 

The Warrior* of the crystal plain 

Was cruising on the coast of Spain; 

And as the sun's refulgent beams 

Less oblique glance in vivid streams, 

Relieving from the dazzling light, 

Which in his (bb) wake had burned too bright, 

For mortal eye to see or bear 

A form that had existence there. 

Within that brilliant track concealed, 

A stranger sail now stands revealed. 

The flag of England's waving seen, 

Though distant yet her seeming mien, 

Distrusts the leader of the fleet: 

The streaming banners friendly greet, 

Britannia lent her ensigns gay. 

To Turk and Christian on that day ; 

But it did nought the foe avail, 

Britain's banner, nor press of sail, 

* The Warrior is the name, translated, of the brave Hull's cap- 
tured frigate. We afterwards built a ship, and called her the Guer- 
rier. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 127 

Active hundreds spread to the wind, 
In hopes to leave the chase behind, 
When full to the astonished crew, 
The stripes and stars are reared to view ! 
The last of all the flags that fly 
Beneath high heaven's ethereal sky, 
The Moslem least expected there, 
Sudden and phantom-like appear ! 
For he had dreamed, or England said, 
(What England said, none then denied,) 

Before her war progressed a year, 
Columbia's flag from ocean driven. 
Her navy should, to destruction given, 

Be sunk, or blown into the air ; 
Now after ^^ears of death and strife, 
To see that navy rise to life, 
Stronger than erst it e'er had been ; 
Nor could he yet conceive the scene. 
Till by the well trained seamen's hands, 
Are tost in air the flaming brands: 
Nor long suspended in the air, 
For fore and aft the cannon bear ! 



128 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAPT, 

And scarcely does the sound transpire, 
^ Point well your guns! let each shot tellP 
Each sound it rung a Moslem knell. 

When given the word to fire. 
Soon in the smoke of battle lost, 
Contending ships unseen are tost; 
But when that mist was cleared away. 
Resumed the empire of the day, 
The brilliant sun his burning ray : 

The crescent from its height descended. 
Splendour eclipsed that lately shone. 
As if the glory were its own. 

Cowering sunk, no more contended 
With that bright radiant galaxy 
Of starsj that illume the sea. 

The prize secured, the fleet again 
Pursue their swift march o'er the main, 
Till Algiers' battlements arise, 
Seeming to brave the sea and skies ; 
Her lofty minarets and towers, 
Whence the priests call at praying hours, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

To worship in the mosque beneath, 

Believers in the Moslem faith, 

Are full in view; while in the ba}^, 

The lazy winds the fleet convey; 

And anxious warriors ardent gaze, 

Chiding the less'ning breeze' delays: 

Not so the captive on the wave. 

Torn from his home the Christian sla\':e ! 

When those blanched towers in sight appear, 

The forlorn victim of despair, 

Who late first felt the galling chain, 

His broken heart may sigh in vain, 

For country, liberty, or wife, 

Here bursts each bond that's dear to life ! 

Each future day the whip and scourge, 

To labour shall the victim urge; 

For him those walls severer doom, 

Than life cut short in early bloom ; 

The heaviest curse that man e'er feltj 

Or fate in wrathful vengeance dealt. 

And yet 'tis true that in Algiers, 

Christian thousands have pined in tears; 

N2 



12« 



130 JOURxNALS OF THE OCEAJ:?. 

While Europe (and their plaints were known,) 

Refused to make their cause her own. 

Columbia ! thine the pride, the boast, 

The first to tame the savage host, 

By arguments from cannon law^ 

Induced for ever to withdraw 

The tributary disgraceful claim, 

A price for peace, and nations' lasting shame \ 

No sooner was that striped flag seen. 
Streaming above the wavy green ; 
Than rose confusion in those walls ; 
Fear and surprise filled harem halls, 
For well they knew, and feared to feel 
The keenness of the western steel; 
And that from such stout warriors' hands^ 
Resistance vain, their flaming brands 
Woidd soon pour redd'ning vengeance down, 
I'pon their heads, and guilty town. 
With outward foes, and fears thus prest, 
To make their peace they deemed the best ; 
Vnd all that justice, right inspire, 
That brave men ask from slaves desire, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 131 

They yield, and ere the passing hour, 
A peace between the Moslem power, 
And freemen of the western land, 
Is signed upon this distant strand. 

The Chief details a gallant bark, 
For his own government t' embark, 
The treaty yet so recent made. 
Thither in haste to be conveyed. 
The brig she bore tli' Epervier's name, 
A laurel in our wreath of fame, 
Won, when in battle strife she reared 
Her flag, and the fair contest dared, 

'Twas meant an act kind and humane, 

T' embark on board the brigantine, 
Those recent freed from slavery's chain, 

Who by the Turk had captured been : 
And gallant men of well earned na?iie, 
And some official known to fame, 
Permission ask, and free receive, 
Their stations in the fleet to leave i 



132 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

And there were two of elder grade, 

Forwlioni th' hymeneal torch yet burned, 

They duty's calls alert obeyed ; 

But homeward now their course is turned. 

Fair sisters twain their coming wait, 

Arrayed in all their bridal state ; 

But long shall wait the widows twain, 

Expect their spouses long in vain! 

Deep in the rolling ocean lie ; 

The flower of naval chivalry. 

A gallant youth* assumes commandj 
Who ever on the deck of fame, 
Maintained the honour of his name, 

With keen victorious brand : 
He well deserved his country's meed, 
Not for a single brilliant deed. 

The glory of his native land ; 
For thrice beneath his victor steel, 

Britannia's yielding ensign bowed ; 
And still the humbled Moslems feel, 

The terrors of a Christian sword. 

* Shubrick. 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 139 

Elected by his chieftain's voice, 

To know him, was t' applaud that choice; 

The bearer of the treaty made, 
Which late the Turk enforced had signed. 
He spread his canvass to the wind : 

Well would have been the charge conveyed, 

Had seamanship availed him aught ; 
When nature in demoniac forms, 
Swept ocean's face in horrid storms ; 

But courage, skill, availed him nought. 
When last was seen th' ill-fated bark, 

He careful had reduced the sails ; 
Her topsails double-reefed at dark, 

To meet th' approaching threatening gales. 

Canst thou my muse to life recall 

The horrors of that dreary scene ; 
When mid the bursting of a squall, 

The lonely ship at night is seen. 
Reeling beneath the furious blast. 
At length upon her beam ends cast ? 
One vast uproar, astern before her. 
The waters wildly rushing o'er her ! 



1S4 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

*' Hard up ! hard up !" the master cries, 
Instant the timoneer replies ; 

And hard a weather with nervous hand, 
The useless tiller rapid flies ; 

The rudder has no more command ! 
The topsails flat aback are prest, 
With violence against the mast ! 
The chief who feels the sudden jar, 
Springs from his cot with death to war ; 
And from their swinging beds, the crew 
Rush upward to the decks anew ; 
For midnight past, the starboard watch, 
Were piped below some rest to snatch, 
But scarce an eye had closed in sleep, 
Though tars in storms rest sound and deep, 
Ere changed the wind in furious blast, 
From whence it blew the first watch past ; 
And well they know that motion drear, 
Though seamen little reck of fear, 
Th' unusual plunge that sternboard makes, 
When such a storm the ocean shakes. 
Clear, shrill, distinct, the Captain's voice, 
Ts heard through elementary noise ; 



JOURNALS OP THE OCEAN. 1S5 

'* Let fly the baliards, topsail sheets ! 
And see them clear from both the bits ! 
Man cluelines, buntlines ! man them well .' 
And seamen let your whole strength tell ! 
Shift quick the helm ! 'twill pay her round. 
Keep the fore staysail sheets fast bound !*' 
Alert each order was obeyed, 
Swift as the air the sound conveyed : 
Save clueing topsails up or down, 
Which all impossible now own ; 
So hard against the shrouds and mast, 
Doth press the sails the direful blast. 
Some upwards spring, the yards now gain, 
And earrings, robands, cut in twain ; 
But all the strength of human inight. 
Exerted on that dreadful night. 
Could not the canvass rending tear, 
Nor yet suffice the yards to clear , 
No hope but crashing down may go. 
The masts into the wave below : 
" Each laniard cut !" Is now the cry, 
Swift to perform a hundred fly ; 



136 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

But who can work beneath the wave, 
Though death t' avoid, and life to save? 
Momentary hope, deeper still 
She heels, and drowning drinks her fill. 
The pressure of th' incumbent waves. 
Her hatches bursts, her frail boats staves; 
The gripes that bound them to the decks, 
Are loosed in vain ! they're useless wrecks ! 
But what if they could launch them sound. 
Into the foaming gulf profound ? 
The first tremendous bursting sea, 
Would plunge them far beneath her lee ! 
No skill can save ! nought can suffice ! 
To wrest from death the sacrifice ! 
Once more she reels, it is the last ! 
No more she feels the vengeful blast ! 
Like the poor wounded whale she flies ^ 
Downward t' escape her agonies. 
The gallant brigantine is gone, 
Where none that breathes may follow on, 
"Save us oh God!" a murmured cry, 
Rose from the wave, and mounts the sk}-, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 137 

A bright flash burst the vivid glare, 
Glanced o'er this scene of fell despair; 
And only by the lightning's gleams, 
As from the heavy cloud it streams: 
A broken spar, or wave crushed boat, 
Is seen of her that long may float. 
Of her poor crew that struggling die, 
Or fruitless on their strength rely ; 
Many already find their death, 
Sinking and yielding up their breath : 
And some who know not how to swim, 
Seize on a friend and sink with him; 

'Tis the firm grasp of death, in vain 
Attempts to loose the hold, the strife 
Feebler becomes, soon ends with life. 

Their mutual grave the main. 
But turn to yonder floating spar, 
Where with the elements at war. 

Many still desperately cling ; 
While o'er their heads each rolling wave. 
Bursting proclaims their destined grave, 

And safety a hopeless thing. 



138 JOURNALS or THE OCEAN. 

All who could swim and still survive, 
To gain the floating topmast strive; 
Until the spar surcharged by weight, 
Sunk down and gave them to their fate. 
Still hover on eternity's brink, 
A few 'twould seem that could not sink. 
Among that few, it wrings the heart, 
Recoiling from the sight we start ; 
To find that youth his country's pride. 
Still buffeting the raging tide ; 
But now with the advancing hour, 
He weaker grows, the vital power, 
Glows less refulgent in his breast; 
'Twas then to heaven a prayer addressed, 
For those he prized above his life, 
His infant child, his widowed wife; 
Then sunk to his eternal rest. 

In the drear waste of waters, lone, 
Can mark no monumental stone 
Thy tomb, unknown unmarked repose 
Thy bones where the storm fiends arose ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 169 

But oft shall they a requiem howl, 
O'er thy grave, while the keen blasts roll ; 
And brothers and friends who wept thee lost, 
Will think of thy fate when tempest tost; 

And when the black clouds whirl in air, 
Veiling the halo round the moon ; 
And surges lash the weather side, 
While leeward yawns the gaping tide; 
Such time will e'er the soul attune, 

To sigh for friends deep shrouded there. 
Tliose are the scenes that home apply, 
Awakening all our sympathy. 



occAsxoxTAXi z:z.z:av« 



Farewell to thee 1 Farewell the brave ! 
Who rest beneath the stormy wave ! 
May Naiads find a pearly cave. 
Which undisturbed the waters lave! 
There rest thee far beneath the billow ! 
And coral trees supplant the willow ! 



140 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN, 

No rav'ning shark shall find thy bed, 
Nor there disturb the hallowed dead ! 
Too deep in ocean ye are laid. 
For aught that lives the grave t' invade : 
The rock weed there like ivy vining. 
Shall cluster o'er, thy locks entwining. 

It is a quiet secure sleep, 
In ocean's calm unfathomed deep: 
For storms the surface only sweep, 
While peace below her reign doth keep : 
And slightest sound hath ne'er invaded^ 
The caverns by the blue wave shaded* 

Friend of my soul* ! I envy thee I 

The quiet of that deep blue sea ; 

But thou wert young ! too young to be. 

The sport of Justice' mockery: 

And never knew the sad proud feeling, 

With right alone to be appealing. 

' The author's beloved brother, who died in the naval service, and 
was byried at sea. 



30URNALS OF THE OCEAN. 141 

Oh ! I would be the veriest slave, 

And well deserve the meed they gave ; 

If I could be the cringing knave, 

Or court the perjured, fame to save ; 

I'd rather see my rent ship sinking, 

And the last gurgling draught be drinking. 

While o'er the dead the bard yet grieves, 
That Chief dishonoured, who still lives, 
That false friend's inj'ries he forgives ; 
Forgets he cannot, if he strives ! 
For him one tear is sure in keeping, 
While o'er the tomb of virtue weepings 



And days are gone and years have fled.j 

Since o'er th' Atlantic ocean sped, 

The gallant ship that distant bore, 

The bard that loves his long left shore^ 

Homeward returning he oft has seen. 

Companions who had messmates been ; 

And friends who were approved and tried. 

He's felt the rolling wave divide.— 
2 



142- JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

Oh ! I would climb the tallest shroud, 
That ever braved the tempest cloud, 
When every wave on ocean's face, 
Contends to mount the higher place^ 

To gain one look at that fair land. 
Where all my hopes and wishes center : 
Oh ! tell me not of rudest winter. 

That sweeps in storms my native strand ; 
For midst those snows and whitened vales. 
My childhood listened to simple tales ; 
Was taught to love the rude rough weather. 
When fell the elementary feather. 
Swift as the falcon I knew to glide, 
When frost congealed the river's tide ; 
And oft in mood exulting fled. 
And reynard like the thousand led ; 
For hours escaped each wily snare, 
My young companions laid me there :. 
Thus oft was spent the holyday, 

Those halcyon days to pleasure given ; 
There's nought of man in after day, 

Fnjoyed so sweet so near to heaven ; 



JOtlRNALS OF THE OCEAN.- 143' 

Save when he sighs on ruby lips, 

And warm affection feels his own ; 
'Tis joy ethereal then he sips; 

Of happiness the earthly crown, 
Long, long have vanished those dear shores, 
Friends, country, all my heart adores. 
Will it be said for this repaid, 

You've worshipped at the classic shriue, 
When wandering in Italia's shade, 

In that same grove where wooed the nine, 
The poets of that ancient race, 
Who find among th' immortals place ? 
'Tis true I've climbed the hallowed steep, 
Mantling above the breeze fanned deep, 
Where sacred e'en to Goths arose 

Virgilius' tomb, quiet and lone. 
His ashes there found long repose ; 

But the sarcophagus is gone ! 
Untenanted the tomb now lies. 
The urn among antiquities ! 
Proud record of the olden time, 
Why take thee from that spot sublime ? 



144 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

From whence in nature's wildest mood, 

Frequent yon burning mount* displays, 
A melted torrent to the flood 

Rolling mid ruined towns the blaze ! 
Near whose broad base bold ruin stalked, 
Abroad in desolation walked ; 
While on the cityt west below, 
As in a mould the lavas flow : 
While south another torrent dashes, 
Enveloping in pummice, ashes. 
Wretched Pompeia ! swept from the face 
Of earth, nor left a single trace, 
Whereby to point her dwelling place ! 
Two thousand years are past and fled, 
Since smothered were the mingled dead ; 
And villages and vineyards grew, 
Where cities once rose on the view! 
The flaming mount itself has changed. 
Wide from its pristine form estranged I 
But once again exposed to light, 
From their long rest of gloom and night, 

* Vesuvius. f Herculaneum. 



JOURIiALS OF THE OCEAN. 14& 

The exhumated houses rise^ 
And greet th' astonished stranger's eyes ! 
Proud temples of the heathen gods, 
Of their false worship long th' abodes ! 
The forum's ample pillared way ! 
'And theatres now greet the day ! 
But where the crowds that pushed along, 
The narrow streets, a living throng ? 
Gone to the elements from whence, 
So strange their being did commence ; 
There to await that final day, 
Shall rouse them from their bed of clay ; 
Then like their city rise once more, 
In pristine form their God before. 
From this fcir spot of hallowed ground, 
Where native laurels spring around ; 
And myrtles rich, rare, evergreen, 
Indigenous do grace the scene : 
Hence Capra's isle of aspect wild, 
Of rocks on rocks in ocean piled ; 
Selected once a *Csesar's home ! 
In those degen'rate days of Rome, 
""'■ Tiberius. 



146 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

When an imperial tyrant bore, 
His bloody sway the nations o'er. — 
Oh ! where has nature formed a view, 
So soft, delicious, sublime too, 
As from this consecrated height, 
Does burst upon th' astonished sight ? 
The spacious bay's unbroken green ! 
Save where a canvassed ship is seen, 
Or busy fisher's anchored boat, 
Doth quiet on the surface float ! 
The castellated shores that bound 1 
And sprinkled villages around ! 
The isles that rear their pointed rocks. 
As if to avoid the rude sea shocks ! 
Great Naples' city yonder dwells \ 
O'er valley, hill, and steep mount swells 
Her countless myriads' busy hum, 
Quiet invading, here doth come ; 
Borne undulating through the air, 
When winds are still, or wafting fair ; 
And last yon active mount of flame ! 
Which now by day doth faintly gleam, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 14'? 

Yet in the sombre gloom of night, 

Its vivid fires do burn full bright ! 

And sea-tost mariners well do know, 

Yon gorgeous lighthouse' fiery glow ! 

And in the storm and tempest drear, 

Thank heaven for its portentous glare. 

Italia ! I could weep thy fate, 

How fallen from thy high estate ! 

And this the spot the bard doth choose. 

Held sacred to thy early muse. 

Of what avail thy beauteous clime, 

That soft'ning mellower grows with time ; 

Thy silver streams, thy azure sky, 

And paradisaical scenery! 

Such are thy wondrous pleasant vales. 

Now calm as peace and radiant smiles ; 

On either coast the soft sea gales. 

Their balmy breath from fragrant isles, 

Convey the rich commercial spoils. 

And had thy surface been as rude. 

With chilling wintry blasts endued ; 

As those the neighbouring Switzers feel, 

Thine might be yet victorious steel ! 



148 JOURNALS OF THE OCEA>-. 

Nor every tyrant of the day, 

Sport thy young liberty away. 

The famed Alliance ! despots crowned ! 

Who hold in slav'ry Europe bound : 

Prostituting the holy name, 

Quench here bright freedom's bursting flame ! 

Pour their myrmidons o'er the land, 

And overwhelm the patriot band ; 

And sacrilegious dare to say, 

Their right divine of tyrant sway, 

From God supreme derived, and given. 

Immediate by the hand of heaven ! 

Oh ! is there not some heavy curse. 

In wrath must on them one day burst, 

Those sainted sinners, hypocrites, 

Foul players with God, those brainless cheats, 

Who caring nought, nor aught believing, 

But their own wicked purpose weaving, 

As a vile tool employ their creed. 

To veil and shroud the basest deed ! 

And whether France or Austria rules, 

'Tis but to change oppression's tools : 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 149 

O'er all alike from Parma's queen, 
To where we view Sicilia green ; 
The latter wields her potent rod, 
Not even free the priest of God ! 
Unhappy Venice stript of state, 

Now gasping in th' embrace of death ; 
Quiet and calmly meets her fate, 

Yet sinking vaunts the glorious wreath, 
Her laurelled sons in other days, 

Won from her foe the Ottomite : 
When virtue's purest brightest rays, 

Led them triumphant through the fight. 
But nobles, Doge, glories gone, 
She sighs an isolated one. 
Grown old the famous Bucentaur, 

No longer weds his mistress wave ; 
Nor annual kept the feast, that o'er 

The nuptials, sponsor Venice gave. 
And art thou never doomed to rise, 

Proud mistress of fair Adria's sea. 

Whose turrets from the wave uprise. 

And, shall they fall and buried be ? 



150 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAK. 

Yea, those proud domes have seen their day,. 

Where splendour chased the night away ; 

And time shall come when those high walls, 

That still encompass nohle halls, 

Sunk into ruin crumbled down, 

Shall be the theme of every clown, 

Who in the distant passing sail, 

In gliding by with lazy gale, 

Shall throw conjecture on those heaps 

Of masonry, that brave the deeps. 

Some one, more knowing than the rest, 

Shall point, there raised her warrior crest, 

A city once Italians pride, 

Who solemn made the wave a bride ; 

And far and wide her conquests spread. 

Curbing the hated Moslem power'; 
Whose valiant sons inspired such dread. 

Where'er they marched, the turbans cower 
And thus they will the hour beguile, 
And talk of seige of Candia's Isle ; 
Where twice ten years they fought and bled, 

Where he who saw the seige commence, 



jour:?als op the ocean. 151 

In bloom of youth, his vet'ran head 

Grown gray with years, when driven thence. 
And still they'll reason on the cause, 
As sluggish along the zebeck draws ; 
Brought ruin on those ancient powers, 
Their massive walls and firm built towers. 
How oft have I in passing by. 

Some site of ancient ruined town ; 
Or wandering those ruins nigh, 

With weeds and tangled briers o'ergrown, 
Unseeming heard the seamen tell 
What wonders once had there befel, 
Traditions wild, improbable? 
Which in their rovings they had gleaned, 
From the rude vulgar of the land: 

And lingering o'er Sicilia's queen, ' 

Where Syracusa once had been ; 

Or o*er that ruin broader still. 

Where rose famed Carthage' citadel. 

Recalled to mind th' historic deed. 

Which millions there had caused to bleed. 

Or traced each step that hero trode. 
The chief who fled proud Illium's fate : 



*5S JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 

In that broad bay his squadron rode, 

His days, his hours in Afric' state, 

To love and Dido consecrate; 

Till roused by old Anchises' form. 

He beauty flies to meet the storm. 

Devoid of needle, chart to guide, . 

Their erring course o'er seas so wide ; 

Compelled their tedious way to sweep, 

With oars across th' unfathomed deep, 

Save when propitious winds might blow, 

And waft direct before the prow. 

How vast! how wonderful, oh man! 

Since the bold Argonauts began. 

In their rude ships to leave the shore, 

The distant seas to wander o'er. 

Have been the products of thy thought. 

In ages to perfection brought ! 

How great ! incredible to sense. 

Is that fleet's strength, magnificence ! 

Which secure there at anchor rides, 

Upon the bosom' of the tides. 

Whose home more distant e'en than where 

Atlantis did her famed fields rear ; 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. I5S 

A thousand leagues beyond the bound, 

Th' Herculean labours ancient crowned ! 

And thitherward we now repair. 

The bard no more can linger here, 

That deep-toned gun doth summon hence, 

And warn that other cares commence. 

Home, country, friends, so long we'd left, 

And been of all that's dear bereft, 

Roving that inland sea around. 

Which was prescribed our cruising ground r/ 

That when the order of return, 

Released us from that far sojournj 

Joy sparkled in the seaman's eyes, 

And all on board was glad surprisCo 

The eastern climes no more unfold. 

Their azure skies of blue and gold ; 

But rapid o'er the wave we fly, 

And night and day the canvass ply, 

Till the highlands of Neversink, 

Emerge from the horizon's brink: 

And ev'ry eye the pilot meets, 

A more than friendly welcome greets, 
P 2 



154 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAiV> 

The southern breeze a steady gale, 
Quartering swells the flowing sail ; 
And every sail a breath may draw, 
Of slightest wind can catch a flaw, 
From skysail to the course below. 
Reflected in the smooth wave glow. 
The steering-sails do wide extend, 
Their ample clues progression lend ; 
And jib and spanker, staysails find, 
The pressure of the fav'ring wind : 
Thus from the deck to lofty truck, 
Each yard distends the snow-white duck ; 
A floating cloud it seems in air. 
Hiding the spars support it there. 
The gay ship reeling forward springs, 
Her way to port obsequious wings ; 
The skilful pilot true course holds, 
.\nd guides her safely through the shoals 
Rapid the winds and tides convey, 
Jn swift march through the devious way : 
The Jersey shore and Diamond past, 
'^he nears the beauteous city fast. 



JOURNALS 6F the OCEAN. 155 

The boatswain's call rings loud and shrilly 
His own hoarse voice yet louder still, 
Proclaims, *' all hands to shorten sail!^' 
His mates repeat the croaking tale. 
The active topmen soon attain, 
The difT'rent tops, the cross-trees gain ; 
And there aloft in order stand, 
Attentive waiting the command: 
So silent, still, so close they lie, 
The gazing landsmen can't espy, 
One soul that stands alert, prepared, 
To lay out on the loftiest yard. 
Brief the command the chieftain gives, 
Which from the press of sail relieves: 
"Inskysails! royals! staysails all! 
The steering-sails now downward haul ! 
Up courses ! up top-gallants clue!" 
And both the jibs are hauled down too : 
The heavy spanker up they brail. 
Relieve her from that griping sail. 
Swift as the language of command. 
The clued up sails the seamen hand ; 



156 JOUIlIfALg OF THE OCEAN* 

Rig in their booms, then leave the yard, 
For other duties now prepared. 
And shrill the call again is heard, 
" All hands moor ship 1" is now the word 
The topmen from their airy height, 
Now downward haste in rapid flight ; 
The stoppers, nippers, they get ready, 
Then stand to veer the cables steady, 
The master sees the lashings clear, 
Reports, " my anchors ready are !" 
And cables frenchfaked the decks o'er, 
Prepared to make a flying moor: 
The capstan bars are rigged and bound, 
Above below around and round ; 
The gunner with his vet'ran crew, 
Lowers the messenger anew ; 
Then hies to stream his buoys fair, 
And see the buoyropes run clear ; 
But now we gain the anchoring ground. 
When by command she luffs around : 
To starboard the helm's hard inclined, 
And topsails braced sharp to the wind, 



JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN. 15^ 

Bringing upon her larboard beam, 
The current of the wind and strefim. 
'^ Stand clear the larboard cable now !" 
The eastern anchor they let go : 
Swift through the hawse the cable flies, 
While to'ard the Jersey shore she hies. 
The first lieutenant's eagle eye, 
Scanning each movement as we fly. 
And as she glides, his rapid glance, 
Discerns too swiftly we advance. 
•' Heave the main-topsail to the mast !" 
The topsail flat aback is cast, 
Dead'ning that impetuous way, 
Which far too rapid did convey, 
To where the western anchor grasps, 
The Hudson's bed in iron clasps : 
The fore and mizen now are squared, 
And starboard bower careful veered ; 
While to the march of music's sound, 
The whirling capstans heave around, 
Rouse in the larboard bower again, 
Until the east and west between, 



558 JOURNALS OF THE OCEAN* 

In equal distance, well secured, 
With open hawse to southward moored. 
The topsail haliards now are gone, 
The sails each yard then rolled upon ; 
So close, so neat, with gaskets tied, 
They scarce from deck can be espied ; 
And last with neatness every yard. 
By lifts and braces both are squared. 



END OF CANTO IT 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



IiINSS 



ADDRESSED TO THE SISTERS OF CHARITY OP THE NEW-TORK 
ORPHAN ASYLUM. 



Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the 
kingdom of God. — Mark, x. 14. 



Sisters of Charity ! Fair virgins, who 
Devote themselves to lighten human wo; 
Who all the pleasures of bright youth forbear., 
To wipe away the orphan children's tear ; 
To calm their little hearts, protection give, 
When those who owe it do no longer live: 
Accept the bard's kind wishes, gratitude, 
For what ye do to aid that mite of good, 
The Lord in mercy left to erring man, 
When sin arose to mar th' Almighty plan. 

Q 



16* MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 

Take to your bosoms those poor little ones, 

Soothe their young griefs, in charity's kind tones. 

The father, mother too, are cold, and laid 

Beneath yon lettered marble, willow's shade. 

Dry up the bitter current that still flows, 

For love in youthful bosoms warmly glows : 

The little mourners feel a keener grief, 

Thau mature man will ready yield belief. 

Misfortunes, sorrows met in worldly strife, 

Blunt the fine edge it wore in early life. 

Yet some remember, and remember well, 

How deep the feeling, there's not words to tell, 

When in our childish days, unsparing death, 

Seized those who blessed us with their dying breath. 

Who equal, yes, co-equal begged of God, 

To guard their children, and for heaven's abode. 

'Tis a high legacy ; and bright reward. 

Be the award of those who kindly guard 

The poor and destitute, whose only claim 

Conies not from rank, or wealth, or sounding name. 

But f"und alone in poverty, distress. 

In want, in misery, in wretcheaness. 



MISCELXANEOUS POEMS. 163 

Go on, ye holy ones, in virtue's way, 
O'er hundred youthful minds extend her sway; 
Check the approach of each insidious vice. 
However garbled, see't does not entice ; 
Mould ye the unformed mind, that prone to err, 
Shall by thy counsel scape each vicious snare ; 
And fathers, mothers, of a future day. 
When all that's mortal now have passed away, 
Shall bless the sainted memory of those, 
Who did surrender all the world, and chose 
To God and charity devote their cares, 
And nurse the forlorn orphan's tender years. 



1§4 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



TKE FARTIXTG TEAS. 

The tear drop that fell from my Caroline's eye, 

Oh ! let me believe 'twas for me ; 
When parting I sailed from my own native sky. 

The land of the brave and the free. 

To know that a tear in that bright eye could glisten. 
When from friends warm beloved, distant bound^ 

For leaving of thee ! Oh ! 'tis soothing to listen, 
Though fancy but whispers the sound. 

Though beauty's bright tear the stern eye unbending^ 

Might refuse to return with a tear ; 
Yet the breast felt as if each heart string was rending. 

Nor found that solace from its care. 

Believe not that tempests, or the wild battle raging^ 
Though they roughen the external form ; 

Will not soften the soul when with woman engaging. 
In the ratio that roughens the storm. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. |^- 

And I will believe, that though distant as ever. 

Fate ever yet dared to divide ; 
f n a happier day we shall meet not to sever^ 

And Caroline shall be my own bride. 



Q s 



1*' 



MlSCELLAr^EOUS POEMS^ 



TTRITTEN IN A LADY's ALBUM, AT SEA. 

When those eyes that once so expressively beamingj 
Kindling my own that delighted to gaze ; 

May glance at this page my mem'ry redeeming, 
From the slumber of time and distance of days. 

Oh ! think on the friend chance-met on the ocean, 
Who loved you at meeting, who sighed to depart ; 

Who knows well to feel the keenest emotion, 

WheB absent from those who are warm to the heart. 

Let him think that remembrance from Emma attracted, 
The wish of a moment to meet him again ; 

That wish for more than sorrow protracted, 
Would amply repay for whole ages of pain. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. l&T 



ZiIBSHTil A S^ZCl?, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN OF METASTASIO, FOR EMMA, 

Thanks to thy deceptions fair, 
Once more I freely breathe the air, 
The gods have ta'en the generous care , 

To break the spell that bound me : 
No dream of liberty lulls my brain, 
For free's my heart, and broke the chain, 
That bound me o'er to love and pain, 

The willing slave you found me. 

The brilliant flame that once burnt brightly. 
So tranquil is that was so sprightly. 
Indifference' breath could not more lightly 

Sport with the flame of love. 
Your name ! unchanged I frequent hear; 
My heart ! no palpitations there. 
Unmoved I see you ! 'tis then most clear ; 

My soul you've ceased to move. 



168 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Nightly my visions are of love, 
But you do not the object prove, 
Awaking, remembrance cannot move. 

My thoughts to turn on thee. 
Absent I never know desire, 
From thee the moments do not tir€ ; 
Pain or joy you can't inspire, 

Present with thee, Emma. 

I coolly on thy beauties reason, 

For it is past and o'er the season, 

AVhen to find fault would have been treason. 

To love, and to your grace ; 
My fluttering heart no longer feels. 
When thou art near, the soft appeals 
Of love, that now a rival steals. 

Unheeded, to my face. 

Unscathed ! thy haughty looks I bear ; 
No longer now those looks I fear, 
For vain's thy hatred, vainly fair 
Love's ling'ring spark you cherish. 



MISCELLANEOUS fOEMS. 169 

No more those lips of roseate hue, 
Attract no more those eyes of bluej 
To me their charms and power too. 
Are lost, or may I perish. 

Pleasure's sweets or sorrow's feeling, 
Are not thy gift, supinely kneeling 
To Emma's tenderness appealing ; 

Nor thy boon my pain or joy. 
Without thee, fair one, I can ramble, 
O'er woods and hills and meadows gambol. 
Repose beneath the vine or bramble, 

And think without alloy. 

Hear maiden, and I'll say sincerely, 
Though fea'ful 'twill affect you nearly ; 
You are pretty, though not clearly 

The fairest of the fair. 
And if the truth will not offend, 
Beauties to be defects contend, 

Which charms once granted were. 



170 MlSCELIiANEOOS POEMS. 

When first I threw aside thy chains, 
With blushes I avow the pains, 
The longing lovesick heart retains. 

Which death alone might end. 
But when the soul oppressed by ills, 
And tears of blood each pore distils, 
Yet still kind heaven a firmness wills , 

Enables to contend. 

The flutt'ring bird, the viscous snare 
Escapes, by loss of plumage there ; 
Yet he regains the ambient air, 

Safe with his liberty : 
Time renews the varied feather ; 
But th' airy chirper no more thither, 
Seeks refuge from the stormy weather. 

Cautious, for he is free. 

T know you believe my pristine flame, 
Is little changed or still the same. 
Because I dwell upon your name, 
And to bo silent know not 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 171 

But 'tis that instinctive feeling, 
When past dangers w'are revealing, 
For the like to heaven appealing, 
Again to bestow not. 

Thus boasts the veteran soldier scars, 
Received, when in his country's wars 
Pie fought and bathed the field of Mars, 

With his life's stream. 
Thus holds to view the once enslaved, 
The chain he with his tears had laved. 
And doubts the good so long he craved, 

And fears it still a dream. 

Sometimes I write, 'tis careless measure, 
For my own and not your pleasure, 
Calmly thus I pass my leisure. 

Not caring your belief. 
If I speak, 'tis not to inquire, 
Tf my words should Emma tire, 
Or whether they excite her ire, 

To me t'were no relief. 



172 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

I liave left an inconstant fair, 
You have lost a heart sincere, 
And I neither know nor care, 

How broken the spell that bound. 
I know that so faithful a lover, 
You will not find the world over, 
Like Emma a faithless rover, 

Can every jday be found. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 173 

ZjIXTSS 

written for the album 

OF A 

YOUNG MARRIED LADY, 

ABOUT EMIGRATING TO OHIO. 

When Sarai of old left her own native land, 
Her father's rude tent for a husband's command ; 
Of the great consequences how little she dreamt, 
Though from vanity none will believe her exempt ; 
For she was a woman, of course had her share, 
Yet she wore expectation till 'twas worse than threadbare ; 
And when the bright promise was told to her lord. 
She laughed in her sleeve and doubted the word : 
And truth there was reason, for such was her age, 
Of the whole of her album there remained not a page, 
Burher lovers had scribbled, what they left by her friends, 
'Twas filled up and finished. As all things have their ends, 
So poor old Sarai thought it wondrous strange news. 

She should the grandmother prove of a nation of Jews ; 

R 



174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Yet it all came to pass from her emigration, 

In producing young Isaac she gave birth to a nation. 

Thus you see, my dear madam, though hope was deferred, 

The Lord kept his promise, was true to liis word : 

So may thy emigration, in due course of time, 

A nation produce in a more western clime. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 175 



THE PiLRTIXra KISS, 

Tn'E kiss you gave, the parting kiss, 
'Twas rapture mixed with sadness ; 

The tear that fell it told my bliss, 
'Twas sorrow tinged with gladness : 

Vmid the raging of the wintry blast, 

A transient beam of sunshine, seen and past. 

The plaited wreath, the wreath you wove, 

Of thj' own beauteous tresses, 
Next to my heart the place of love. 

My constant bosom presses : 
And though no pictured form that bosom wears, 
The heart full deep thy graven image bears. 



176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



EPISTOLARY AND BIRTH-DAY 
WRITTEN WHILE ON A VOYAGE TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN, FEB. 15, 182^» 

To " Bonnk Jean." 

I. 

The sweetly sounding line a tribute pays, 

To worth and excellence, and beauty's claim 
The minstrel feels, swells on the string her praise : 

The *Prince of Poets warbles o'er a name, 

And gives to Laura never ending fame ; 
Grant heaven born maid an equal power to sing, 

All holy wedded love, another theme, 
Than yet has trembled on the vocal string, 
Or caused with soothing sound heaven's airy vault to ring* 

* Petrarck 



IrllSCELLANEOUS POEM«. 
II. 

Too oft the sound in discord hath awoke, 
And heaven astounded heard the angry jar ; 

When quivering notes of jealousy hath broke, 
Threat'ning Jove's wide empyrean with war : 
The god descended, but the man afar ; 

Must drive the baser passion that would sear 
The bosom of his love, and fix a bar, 

'Twixt him and love, that love can never bear, 

Nor jusily be accounted else than misery here. 

III. 

May not the bard then venture on the strain, 

Where love the social bond alone hath made 5 
Where peace unearthly, happiness did reign, 

Until the mandate of stern fate obeyed,. 

To Chilian climes unwillingly I strayed ? 
At home, I knew thy value well to prize, 

Nor e'er if known thy smallest wish delayed^ 
My bright reward was Jane's approving eyes, 
And thousand interchanging kind civilities. 

R 2 f 



178 MISCELLANEOUS POEMSr 

IV. 

Could I forbear the starting tear, the sigh. 

That to my labouring bosom gave relief, 
When all around was not one tearless eye ! ! I 

My soul to love and feeling was not deaf, 

Nor yet unmanly triumph gave to grief; 
But such the anguish that my bosom tore, 

Description just may well exceed belief, 
'Twas more than Actseon felt, when downward bore, 
By his own staghounds torn, he weltered in his gore, 

V. 

Think not my love, though distant far from thee. 

And ocean's volumes wide betwixt us roll, 
That distance, time, or e'en eternity, 

Shall mar our strict community of soul ; 

Though swift our bark approach the southern pole, 
And chill the warm blood's current in the vein ; 

With change of clime, no change of thought e'er stole^ 
Athwart my adoration for my Jane, 
To give confessed one transient solitary pain. 



MISCELLANEOUS P0E3IS. 179 

VI. 

'Tis him who calls thee wife, thy husband 'tis, 

Who kiiows thy worth, and on thy natal day ; 
Deprived th' inestimable cup of bliss, 

Still pays a tribute due to love away ; 

On swiftest pinions flee my soul ! yet stay ! 
Another destiny thy fate commands, 

For thou art doomed to feel the scorching ray, 
A vertic sun in distant Peru's lands, 
So late enfranchised from th' Iberian bands. 

VII. 

One darling pledge of plighted faith I've left, 
To keep of troth and vow remembrance warm, 

While him thou lov'st, of every friend's bereft, 
That forms of life the social bond and charm : 
In hours of rest, whose often outstretched arm, 

After ungracious fruitless search returns, 
To stir a palpitating fond alarm. 

And wake a heart where fevered feeling burns, 

To feel, to know, the loss of all it keenly mourns. 



180 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

VIII. 

Think not, my love, I grudge the lovely boy, 
A mother's tenderness, thy fond embrace ; 

I would not wrest him from thee, for the joy, 
To press him to my heart for a brief space : 
And dearest next to thine, were that small grace, 

Thine! far beyond all other human bliss. 
And other joys ill-tiined and out of place, 

When sorted to that feast of happiness, 

Felt in the dear embrace, a tender wife's caress. 

IX. 

While the chill winter of your northern clime, 
Whitens the dazzling face of hill and dale. 

And blasts terrific sweep along sublime. 

As though an absent sun they mourn and wail. 
And seek another zone his fires t' inhale : 

Yet none will envy me the scorching beam, 
The deadly exhalations that exhale. 

From sultry climes where never snowy gleam. 

Reflected from a mount, or iced pellucid stream. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 181 

X. 

But well I envy those who seated round, 
The grated hearth and social winter fires ; 

Where nought but harmony, content are found, 
And friends and cheerfulness that never tires. 
And brightest smiles that innocence inspires: 

Oh! these dear scenes rekindle all the past, 
What still prospective, most my soul desires ; 

But distance fearful separates us fast, 

'Twas too unearthly, I feared it could not last. 

XI. 

Those scenes I've left which then were graced by thee. 
My better self and partner of each thought ; 

Sweet soother of my griefs, 'twas destiny 
Claimed the stern sacrifice, to altar brought, 
No kind redeeming spirit with mercy fraught, 

Could point the lamb to keep thy husband home ; 
Unless forgetting lessons prudence taught, 

He could not otherwise than distant roam. 

Though bothalike do lengthened absence keen bemoan. 



18^ MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

XII. 
When far from home and friends in other days, 

Some passing thought of native scenes would glance. 
As rolled between the broad expanse of seas ; 

Yet still my buoyant spirits light would dance, 

As zephyrs sport and o'er the waves advance : 
I felt the kindred tie as others do, 

'Twas for the partner of my soul t' enhance, 
Through love of her, to bitterness and wo, 
The hours, the days, the months that pass so sloth-like slow. 

XIII. 
And would I change these feelings for those times, 

When all was blank and void within ray breast. 
And matter 'twas not in what distant climes, 

My wearied eagle found a place of rest ! 

No fairest, and of women amiablest, 
(Tho" absence for a time my stern behest,) 

I would not change the fond endearing wife, 
For all combined, the wealth the pomp of life. 
Ambition's great emprise, to rule this world of strife. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 185 

XIV. 

The land of fire,* and Isles of ice appear, 
Where never green sward grew, scarce tufted moss ; 

For all alike is desolate and drear. 

And lonely as the broad-winged albatros, 
That frequent flits my wearied path across : 

Like thee, poor bird, I brave the tempest wind. 
And more abide of all that's dear the loss ; 

But yet to know where faith, truth, love to find, 

Is sweet, consolatory, soothes the bleeding mind, 

XV. 

Though distant far the day, yet come it will, 

To see thee, hear thee, kiss away thy tears, 
To dissipate the dark and dreary chill. 

That sits too heavy on th)' tender years ; 

I will return, lorn dove, to soothe thy cares, 
Hope whispers ere the golden harvest falls, 

While yet the north the sun's bright influence bears. 
Or erst keen winter stern again appals. 
Or maidens have recourse to warm merino shawls. 

* Terra del Fu ego. 



184 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

XVI. 

Farewell, dear mourner, widowed bride farewell, 

Till that bright day when William claims his all, 
Who loves his Jane, how well, he dares not tell, 

Not even to her, on whom that love doth fall ; 

Let not his risks thy tender heart appal, 
Nor fancied dangers present peace alloy, 

Again he'll press thee in thy father's hall. 
To the responsive bursting heart of joy, 
And kiss with fond affection, thy little darling boy. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS* i85 



X.ETTERS FROM KOMB. 



As the first beam of morning glances, 
The wearied bark to port advances ; 

Seen through, the mist the distant land, 
Variegate by hill and mountain, 
With many a streaming moss grown fountain 

She slowly gains the Chilian strand. 



Near and more near the ship approaches, 
And gradual on the land encroaches: 

The northern stripes are seen to float, 
Wave to the undulating breeze; 
While o'er the gently rolling seas, 

The oars propel the gliding boat. 
S 



^> 



186 MISCELLAx\EOLS POEM*, 

Letters from home and friendly greeting. 
And joy of ancient comrades meeting : 

With cordial warmth the hand is prest, 
The speaking letter sweet doth tell, 
How dear beloved ' how much! how well! 

And all that love could wish confest. 



The tear may rise, it is of pleasure, 
In gazing on the welcome treasure : 

Love, kind aftection, grief suppressed, 
A tear drop's mark on every page, 
Giving of faith and truth the gage, 

With all by words can be expressed. 



Loved letter, henceforth o'er the billow : 
By night companion of my pillow : 

And through the day yet closer prest, 
!My bosom shall'the relic bear; 
For ne'er did saint or pilgrim wrat, 

A reliquary half so bhst. ^ v,; 



BilSCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



187 



Yet war not with the lovelier tresses, 
That closer still my bosom presses : 

Though dear thou art, but half so dear, 
So think not, minion, that thou wholly, 
Shalt occupy or dwell there solely ; 

The wreath ! 'tis her own golden hairi 

The wreath I wear in toil and danger, 
And while in foreign lands a stranger, 

Shall give thee, welcome guest, a place 
Dear are the lines, well known the hand, 
A treasure in this distant land, 

Equal shall both divide the space 



* 




188 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS*. 



STANZAS^ 

WRITTEN ON ARRIVING AT TALPARAISO, 

Though milder skies and flowers perenuialj 
Meet my eye in climes more genial, 

When Chili's verdant shores are won i 
And Terra del Fuego's blast> 
With all its storms and dangers past, 

Which thousfh unheard still thunder oif» 



My soul cannot accord with mildness. 
It loves that elementary wildness : 

The storms of heaven, the ocean's roll> 
The strife of winds, the war of seas, 
Possess alone the power to please, 

Are more congenial to my souL 



TSriSGELLANEOUS POEMS. 18» 

Have I not left in one sad hour, 
Existence' charm ! whose sovereign power, 

Awoke my love, and gave it birth : 
She who has taught my bosom bliss. 
No other world contains but this, 

And made a paradise on earth. 



Then marvel not at my soul's sadness, 
When grief usurps the place of gladness ; 

Or when t' evade the gazing eye, 
Features and converse mirth assume ; 
^Tis but a meteor of the gloom, 

An *^ ignis fatuus" in the sky, 



The dearest ties on earth are riven, 
Shut out the rays ray sun of heaven, 

That now illume another sphere ; 
^o sunk beneath th' horizon far, 
Twinkles unseen the northern star, 

Unfelt its shining radiance here, 
S 2 



t90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Yet hope will on the future borrow, 
And paint the joys of the to morrow ; 

When to my bosom clasped my Jane, 
My prattling cherub playful smiles, 
And with its dear infantile wiles, 

Welcomes the parent home again. 

Is there on earth a heart erratic, 
That does not leap with joy ecstatic, 

AVhen hope, sweet soother of the soul, 
Indulges in the day to come 1 
The pleasure of returning home, 

'Tis colder than the frigid pole I 

That heart so dead, so void of feeling, 
Unheard the tender ties appealing ; 

Should wander in the ice-bound zone, 
Where warmth of summer reaches never, 
And rigid winter dwells for ever, 

In climes untriivelled and unknown. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 191 



WRITTEN THE DAT SUBSEQUENT TO THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE 
author's MARRIAGE, AT PANAMA. 

To ^'■Bonnie Jean^ 

Though I was not at home to renew the dear oath, 

That was sworn to, so fondly was sworn to by both, 

Yet that bright nuptial morn to the wind of the south, 

Again and again the same vow I breathed forth. 

In fondness I hoped that the Darien gale, 

Might convey the soft sound to the glen, hill, or vale, 

Where the wife of my bosom that hour beguiled, 

In thinking of William, or caressing his child ; 

Oh ! say, my loved Jane, when the tremulous breeze, 

Shook thy beauteous tresses, or stirred the young leaves^ 

Did no sound of the words that my constant lips spake^ 

Then reach thee so distant, nor on thy ears break ! 



192 MISCELLAxVEOUS POEMS. 

No ! Zephyr was envious — yet despite of his hate. 

The love breathing lines of my verse can relate, 

That my bosom still swells with a passion as new, 

As pure, and as chaste, as the morn's pearly dew ; 

For though ocean's rough volumes between us may roUj 

They bound not the flight— the flight of the soul, 

Which regardless of time, or of distance, or space, 

Now hovers around thee, and breathes this solace; 

Receive, beloved wife, my vows o'er again, 

For enthroned in my heart and unrivalled is Janc^ 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 19S 



The author feels that he owes an apology to Captain C. for writing his epitap?^ 
before his death, an event which he hopes sincerely is far distant. He wishes it to 
be considered only as a " jeu d' esprit, " without intending to convey any censure 
fln a gentleman whose wit and talents he respects and admires. 



AVr EPITAPH 

FOR CAPTAIN C . OF THE NAVT. 

Here lies the wreck of a poor body, 
That once loved whiskey punch, and toddy; 
In fact he loved with all his soul, 
Whatever crowned the flowing bowl: 
Yet oft he was extremely puzzled, 
That FalstafT thin Canary guzzled ; 
That man of wit, who drenched in sack, 
O'er it many a joke did crack; 
But ne'er in wit or jest exceeded 
Him, who now lies here unheeded. 
Dinner he loved, was fully able 
Heroes to lay beneath the table, 



194 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And never thought that he had dined. 

Until his jacket he had lined 

AVith turkies, capons, all such stuff, 

And seldom felt, or cried enough : 

So much this sinner loved to drink, 

Not water, as some folks might think; 

That ne'er he prayed to God in fine, 

Unless to change the seas to wine. 

At length he struck his flag to death ; 

But struck it only with his breath ! 

Here safely moored, no cable parting. 

Shall ever from his hammock start him; 

No worrying *mid, with midnight calls, 

Shall rouse t' encounter furious squalls, 

Here rests he, his long hap to take. 

Till the dread sound of trump shall wake; 

And then that his account be just, 

Is what I do most humbly trust. 

* The midshipmen call the superior officers, when duty requires 
their presence on deck. 



MISCELLANJ20US POEM&. 195 



TO HAZIBIET BS. 

Hovve'er unwilling to confess thy reign, 
A sight of ihee with rapture thrills each vein ; 
Rising superior thy cultivated mind, 
Receives just tribute from the soul refined ; 
Intelligence that beams the heart must warm, 
Enriched with every mental outward charm ; 
Thy beauty claims another sphere than this, 
Mild as the forms that grace the bowers of bliss. 



196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Ziiirss 

WRITTEN ON A HOMEWARD BOUND PASSAGE. 

As time onward rolls, like the moon beam advancing, 
O'er the waters of Hudson that sparkle with light, 

From wave-top to wave-top incessantly glancing, 
Until the full orb gains the zenith of night. 

So homeward returning our light ship in motion. 
O'er the spherical waste wings impetuous way ; 

'Leaves a luminous track o'er the bosom of ocean, 
Unceasing her course till moored in the bay. 

With the name of that bay what thoughts fond are swelling, 
Of country, of home, and of those ever dear. 

On thy beach is the footstep, on thy sltore the loved 
dwelling, 
Of those who are dearest on this earthly sphere. 

And welcome the day when again I shall press them, 
To a bosom of feeling, of fondness, of love, 

When the husband and father, shall in ecstasy bless them, 
And the canker of grief by the meeting remove. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 197 



XiAMZSITT 



ON THE DEATH OF THE KING OF THE AIR. 
Written on seeing a singular notice, published in a country Newspaper, (cc) 

*Tvvas but a worthless act, though vaunting told, 
To slay thee, grandest of created things 

That in the yielding air doth strong unfold, 
And soar above the earth with ample wings ! 

Wherefore didst cease thine airy flight to hold ? 
Was it for rest, or curious eye that brings 

To view improvements made on Croton soil, 

And see them manufacture castor oil ? 

Thou wert deceived, and but a bird ill-judging, 

If from the simple title of a Friend, 
Thou thought'st a fowl or chick he'd not be grudging, 

And friendly either would for breakfast lend : 
INo ! sooner to Hades he'd send thee trudging, 

Than ever bird that flew so far befriend; 

The blood of all thy race he'd rather shed, 

Than give away one little crust of bread. 
P T 



198 flllSCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Perhaps misguided, by the Christian creed, 
(For it is broadly written, shed not blood, 

Nor waste God's creatures but for useful need ;) 
Thou peaceful sought'st the shelter of the wood, 

And deemed it crime too small for which to bleed, 
To rest thee for a time in idle mood. — 

Oh ! can'st thou not among the furze espy, 

That wily creeping thing I Where is thine eagle eye ? 

Oh ! for a wasp or hornet now to save, 

Freedom's proud emblem from the deadly aim 

Of Quaker missile, certain as the grave : 

Oh ! turn the tube, and once more honour claim 

By slaughtering wicked crows,* blood shedding knave, 
And save thy kindred all the blush of shame. 

Bird of the mountain ! monarch of the crag ! 

He's torn thy breast like any tattered rag ! 

Poor bird, thou honoured wast at least in death. 
Great names assembled o'er thy bloox3y bier ; 

Titus, who shortened so mtich Jewish breath, 
Alfred the Great, of English kings were there, 

* Something like fifty crows were once slaughtered by the ssmie 
uncrrips aim. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 199 

William thy conqueror twas, who lurked beneath 
The rhododendron green. — Others there were, 
Robert the Bruce, with compasses and rule 
Measured thy ample form, then published like a fool. 

And was it vanity, poor simple one. 

Sent thee a gossiping in search of praise ! 

For doing what thou best had let alone, — 

Most wondrous feat 1 shortening a poor bird's days ! 

And then th' exploit to have it better known, 
A poor gray Eagle shines with golden rays ! 

The next one comes to Croton, give him oil, 

I'll guarantee thy hens from future spoil. 

MORAL. 

For thy powder, tlius useless thrown away, 
The carcass of an Eagle will not pay. 



20a MISCELLANEOUS POEM^^ 



THZ WSST IXTDIiiir CKTTIZHEIs. 

LINES WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF AN OFFICER OF THE U. S. SH]* 
DECOY, WHO FELL A VICTIM TO YELLOW FEVER. 

Oh ! whither is bound yon proud courser of ocean, 
That gaily with streamers shows her stern to the strand ! 

I|ow beauteous appears and how rapid her motion, 
As willing she se&ras to recede from the land I 

Oh ! surely she's bound to the Isles of the spices, 

The bright dream of wealth to the distance entices I 

To the Isles of the spices ! No ! *to the Island of bones^ 
A searcher of wealth ! No ! the pirate to crush ; 

And loud one day shall be the lament and the moans, 
For those now on danger that heedlessly rush. 

Shall the sword of the pirate reach the hearts of the 
brave ? 

3Jo ! the sabre alone from the pirate shall save. 

* Cayo Hueso, translated in the English charts, Key West, instead 
of the *' Island of £o7ics." 



msCEXLANEOUS POEMS. 201 

See once more the dark ship, now slowly receding, 
From that Island of wo, and of febrile disease ; 

Her late gallant crew all listless nor heeding, 

Her slow solemn march on the deep rolling seas. 

In vain they may steer for the land of their friendSj 

Dread pestilence follows wherever she wends. 

Hark! heard you that plunge in the desolate wave ! 

Or saw you that bright flash whence those bubbles arose ! 
Is there nought else to mark the seaman's wet grave, 

Or point to the spot where his ashes repose ? 
His hammock a shroud, the wave for his pillow, 
The tear of a shipmate leaves small mark on the billow. 

No volley at parting now rings through the air, 
As is wont for those who have fallen in fight ; 

^o relative stands to mourn o'er the bier, 
And hurried is done the funereal rite : 

For contagion is there, and those now do quail, 

Who stood firm in battle, and breasted the gale. 



T 2 



^0^ MlSCELIrANEOUS POEMS, 



SPITHAIiAAIIUMy 

ADDRESSED TO MRS. H . ON HER MARRIAGE^ 

Domestic bliss, and sacred love my theme, 
Thou, virtue's self, inspire my rounded line : 
Fain to my aid I would invoke the nine, 

If inappropriate it did not seem, 
To entreat of virgin nymphs to inspire, 
The strain that wakes from the hymeneal lyre. 

They were the gift of heaven, the first 

The great Creator willed to man, and then 

Drove him from Paradise a wretch accurst. 
None save the mother of the race of men, 

To bear with him their equal sin, or share 

The griefs, the sorrows of this humbler sphere. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 205 

They were the gift of heaven, the last 

That heaven vouchsafed the great progenitor, 

When other joys were fled and Eden past. 
Shut out the feet of Adam evermore : 

In the pure chaste embrace there yet was bliss, 

The earth contained not other happiness. 



Hail then to thee, pure spring of mortal joy, 
One stolen pleasure from immortal source ; 

Fill the bright cup, fill free from base alloy, 

For those who snatch thee in the fleeting course ; 

Drink, "may the virtuous and liberal mind, 

Its own bright attributes with true love find." 



And came that bliss unstained with drops of gall. 
Or was (he fair bequest untainted given ? 

Doubtless in mercy to the grasp of all, 

When man was lost, and even hope of heaven ; 

Yet heaven permits, it is the choice of man, 

To sweeten or embitter his brief span. 



304 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

'Tis wisdom then t* avoid the bitter draught, 
Springing inevitable from discord's source ; 

Evil irremediable, for when once quaffed, 

The fated wretch must drink through life's whole course ; 

Nor oath, nor prayer repentant can relieve, 

He's doomed to suffer while he's doomed to breathe. 



How bright, how glorious that union is, 

When minds congenial meet, and wedded hearts ! 
There sacred love reigns with domestic bliss, 

And all that's worth a care in life imparts : 
So happy thine, so briglit the fair behest, 
And may thy marriage be supremely blest. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. £05 



JOHK Q. ASrH THB GRASTD CAITAZi. 



The following ode was written on first hearing of the imposition of a tax on boats 
navigating the western canal. The poet it appears, perfectly understood the defer-> 
ence that would be paid to expediency. 



Let his days be few 5 and let another take his ofnce.— P^a^vn cix. 



I'm told, wee pursy Johnnie, ye have heard 
Of our great western works, and e'en averred 
Ye'd lay your grip upon the things that float, 
And take a bit of silver from each boat : 
The news begets both grief and consternation, 
Throughout the great enlightened New- York nation, 

I take the liberty of old acquaintance, 

(And we were much acquaint some short time since^ 

*I do remember well your ^^ politesse^^^ 

Your courteous treatment I avow, confess,) 

To say some words about canal taxation, 

And other things which may produce vexation. 

* ** Oubliez moi, grand Dieu, si jamais je Poublie," 



gOB MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

ril tell ye first in language plain but civil ; 
We money love, though 'tis the root of evil ; 
We know 'twill buy us many right good things, 
And therefore patient bear the ills it brings : 
Thus do we get along philosophizing, 
In chase of gold, not copper coin despising. 



And many of us find it cursed hard 

To win the pennies, this vouchsafes the bard, 

With blistered hands and sunburnt skins we strive, 

And find it difficult enoagh to live : 

Then dose us not with officers of customs, 

We hate them worse than any vile quack nostrums^ 

Not that I would venture, or dare to say, 

The duties fair and just we will not pay, 

No ! our thousands shipping's snow white sails, 

Your treasury reports tell other tales : 

We only hate your unjust usurpation. 

Upon the works of our own hand's creation. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 207 

Do you remember ? I have oft heard tell, 
And have no doubt you know the story well, 
What a great teapot Boston port was made, 
When North was minded to tax the Yankee trade : 
'Tis very like John Bull's old domineering, 
Your coming here fresh water privateering. 



"We won't submit !" Fve seen it fairly printed 

In good black letters, the meaning no way stinted ; 

I know you're obstinate, and all men know it, 

But if ye're wise, this is no time to show it: 

Your friends are staggered here, there's much defectionj 

The bard now warns you ; ware the next election ! ! 



'Twill be a safer measure three years hence, 

If with your services we don't dispense; 

You are the Congress' man ! C***'s '' molten calf P'^ 

The people's voice you had not ! no, not half! 

Therefore I choose not yield you my prostration, 

Though 'twere t' avoid your fiercest reprobation. 



S08 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

We know you're busy trafficking for papers, 
Sharpening your tools beforehand, like our reapers 
'Twont do, if re-elected comes the tax, 
And Johnnie's foot is down upon our necks: 
Like Moses then, instead of adoration, 
We'll give the interloper, prosternation, 



Thank God ! I have a freeman's vote to give, 
Old Hickory shall have it if we live, 
He is no bartering midnight intriguer, 
And can in need for country pull a trigger : 
We have another here can fill the station, 
And keep his honesty in his elevation. 



I saw him in a steamboat t'other day. 
With aldermen and big folks underway, 
To visit marble quarries, where a prison 
For anti-honest folks has lately risen : 
'Twill be a money making job no doubt, 
Therefore I'd seize it Johnnie out and out. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 209 

Though *^' liberty is power," money is the thing 
Properly applied, will always power bring ; 
And patrdnage you know is much the same, 
'Tis paying, buying, with another name: 
Then make each thing available you can, 
Or by the L — d your race is quickly ran. 

We are not monarchists, and John the second, 

May prelude other Johns, some folks have reckoned ; 

But I for one would wish the time deferred, 

T' elect a John, wer't even John the third : 

Talents are not so rare to guide the nation. 

To be found only in thy generation, 

'Upon this tax I know you'll nOt insist, 
Expediency will cause you to desist ; 
We've Natty Bumppos, *^ double barrelled guns ^^^ 
And truer sights than Roanoke's proud sons : 
Many a firm Troup sliall guard the passes by, 
' To blow John Q****?/ up, sky high! sky highT^ 

* See late message to Congress. 
U 



210 lUIBCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And each invader of the rights of states, 

Shall nought receive but broken heads and pates ; 

We'd rather fit you for the steel trepan, 

Than ever listen to j^our gouging plan : 

'Tis a hard, knotty, crabbed, gnarled question, 

Take care'tdont bring on painful indigestion. 

Like general Joshua, I'm told, beforehand, 
You've sent to spy the weakness of the land, 
Under pretence of visiting the lake. 
Your Captains bold can observations make : 
We care not for your bullying hect'ring heroes, 
Nor a whole host of whiskered naval Neros. 

The worthy few we did delight to honour, 
Erie's bold 3'outh, the gallant brave Macdonough, 
Are gone ; another one you drove to roam. 
To seek on Mexic's shores a distant home : 
'Twas a meet time to show your indignation. 
And blur his honest well earned reputation ! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 211 

1 would not give a straw for that man's heart 

Could play the cool delib'rate villain's part ; 

And you have one too near you that can l*e, 

Perhaps I'll choose to name him by and by : 

I'll vouch who 'tis not, lest you too long may harbour 

Him, who is not C*** nor R**-*, nor B*****r. 

Send him to Burlington to preach *didacticks, 
Or send him here, we'll teach him naval tacticks ; 
And in a boat upon the grand Canal, 
We'll learn f evade or how to meet a squall : 
We'd teach him there to swim like any spaniel, 
And cry, t '^ most learned Judge ! a second Daniel!^* 



It would be wiser, juster far I say, 

To ship him to his naval JBot'ny bay ; 

Perchance he there might leave his worthless bones, 

To fatten mangrove bushes, mid the groans 

Of sprites, his wickedness made premature ; 

He'd make a good round lump of rich manure. 



* The first precept no doubt would be to prevaricate and deceive. 
f A learned secretary's quotation, which he was weak enough to a 
ply recently to the opinions of K**t, E+***t, and V** W**k, 
+ Key West. 



2.kSt MISCELI.ANEODS POEJVtS. 

But why this blust'ring 'bout our grand canal ? 
In truth 'tis but a big ditch after all ; 
And all the ships, like Caesar's ships of old, 
One of your sly three decks would easy hold : 
Therefore you'd better come and ride upon it, 
Before in wisdom you decide upon it. 



If you do come upon this invitation, 

To see the great stupendous excavation ; 

One little caution I must not neglect, 

Forefend it heaven, I mean not to reflect : 

But this I know, gazettes were loud and clamourou% 

'Tis said fat pursy little men are amorous. 

Our girls are vastly pretty, cherry cheeks, 
Lips of roses, an eye that soul bespeaks ; 
And though I'm thin, and tall, and worse, ill-fedj 
The rising demon will my breast invade. 
When fairest flow'rets in the whole creation, 
Spring in my path, they stir some palpitation. 



MISCELLAXEOUS POEM?*. £4S 

Then how it is with you whom dainties feast. 
And all the luscious wines of all the east? 
If like the rueful knight, Fin sober, chaste, 
Thou may'st resemble Eclipse, noble beast : 
He won a race ! He did upon my word, 
And so did you, I've seen it carricatured. 

Rescind your orders, then we'll ready stand, 
Each sinewy hard fist of our equal land ; 
And welcome give, and such fraternal shake, 
You'll think it Vulcan's vice, or vile toothach 
Transferred to finger ends; beware your winching! 
I've seen you once before i'the *white house flinching. 

If by this exposition just and true^ 
Offence is taken by the great John Q. 
The remedy is eas}^ off coat and hustle. 
And serve the bard as ye did Johnny Russell. 
Call for the pen and ink, as is your fashion. 
Write him to h — I, and cool your flaming passion. 

* City Hall. It was indeed a serio, comico exhibition, to see, after a 
good squeeze, how reluctantly the hand would be put forth to another 
member of the mobility, who appeared also disposed to become well 
acquainted. 

U2 



21 4 MISCELLANEOUS POEM«. 

Should you ynwise prefer a libel suit, 

Take care't dont fill your mouth with dead sea fruit ; 

Cat's paws are useful, there is one, bis name I 

It is too vulgar ! he from Jersey came ; 

*Give him ^^ per diem^^'' fifty dollars, wages, 

He'll do your dirty work, the bard engages. 

t ,,> 

But this in confidence ere you begia, 

The chance is sure, a blank you certain win 5 

AVfiere siller is not, 'twill be hard to find, 

As hard for good eyes as for those stone blind : 

If judgment had, and served, and execution, 

I'll cry out through the hars, ** vile persecution ! !" 

* It is known from certain authority, that the Judge Advocate tff 
Commodore Porter's, Stewart's, and various other mock martial trials, 
received from the public purse at the rate of fifty dollars per diem, and 
"$135 clerk hire, additional, for Porter's court of inquiry alone, for trials 
too, the disgrace of our country. Verily, the labourer is worthy of his 
hire. 



^ ■" / 



2f OTES. 



THE SIREN'S CRUISE. 



(a) Mores his fharm fetisch. (;>. 21.) 

The charm fetisch, or fetish, may be considered the talisman of the 
Obeah practice, so universal throaghout Africa. Bryan Edwards, 
in his history of the West Indies, describes Obi as being usually- 
composed of a farrago of materials, enumerated in the Jamaica law, 
for its suppression, viz. " blood, feathers, parrot's beaks, dog's teeth, 
alligator's teeth, broken bottles, grave dirt, rum, and egg shells." 
The fetisch is usually worn around the neck, and is regarded by the 
wearers as an antidote, when Obi is set for them. For a full ac- 
count of this practice, see " Edwards' West Indies," vol. II. book IV. 
chap. iii. 

(6) Honour unknown^ light sit the bonds of lifei (p. 21.) 

" Fathers of free condition have power to sell their children." 
Edwards, page 311. While the author was on shore at Cape 
M ount on a watering party, a negro chief to whom some little pre" 
sents had been tendered, such as a bottle of rum, &c. made the 
singular offer of the choice of his four wives to the donor, as a 
mark of his gratitude and friendship, accompanied with the remarks, 
his father had given them to him. He appeared surprised, and nQ 
way pleased at the civil rejection of his polite offer. 



218 >-OTES. 



(c) The green wave spurned, {p. 22.) 

As it will not escape observation that throughout the Journals 
*'g-ree>t," and " 6Zue" are frequently applied as the colours of the 
Ocean waters, and hence some discrepancy may appear to exist. 
It will be proper to inform the reader, that the deep unfathomable 
waters of the sea are a dark blue ; but that on soundings, the wa- 
ters change their hue, and often assume a rich and lively green. 

The fresh waters of large rivers will often tinge the ocean a con- 
siderable extent beyond soundings, and deceive even the experienced 
mariner so far as to get a cast of the lead. 

(d) Down staysails, in topgallantsails, the word! (p. 25.) 

There is a brevity of command in the naval service, that officers 
cannot be too sedulous to attain ; there is much of the wonder, 
beauty, and surprise of stage effect produced by seeing a tall ship 
stripped of her canvass, with but a few words from the quarter- 
deck. 

(c) The gently ruffling cat^s paw. (p. 28.) 

"Cat's paw is a light air of wind perceived at a distance in a 
calm, sweeping the surface of the sea very lightly, and dying away 
before it reaches the ship." — Bowditch. 

(/) Occupy the waist, {p. 31.) 

The waist is that part of a single decked vessel which is between 
the quarter-deck and forecastle. In a frigate, or line of battle ship, 
the same portion of the upper deck is called the gangway, and the 
waist is then a part of the main-deck, or deck next below. 

(g) The luscious turtle found along the strand, {p. 3S.) 

On my return from the Cape of Good Hope to England, whither 
I had been carried a captive after the loss of the Siren, we stopped 
at this island, and obtained several turtle of an enormotts size. I 
do not remember that any of them were weighed, but some of them 
were certainly not under four hundred pounds. One sufficed to 
give a turtle dinner to the crew of a seventy-four. 



NOTES. 219 



{h) vlscension''s Isle. (p. 38.) 

This island lies in the latitude of 7° 56', south, longitude 14° 16', 
west of Greenwich. It is barren and desolate in the extreme, Vvith 
bare and rugged mountains of great altitude. Millions of sea-birds 
form their eyry there, and are so unused to the face and strength of 
man, that they will not even get out of the way of a club. There 
is on the summit of one of the hills a place of deposit for letters, 
long used as such by seamen, and known as the post-office. Had 
we taken the precaution to have examined the office when we made 
the island in the Siren, we should have been saved from capture 
by the Medway, as she had only the day before deposited a letter 
there, intended for one of His Majesty's cruisers from St. Helena. 

(i) By high command the leeward guns are hurled, (p. 39.) 

To the destroying the trim of the brig, by heaving the guns on 
one side overboard, and afterwards lightening her, I do impute the 
loss of the vessel. When the character and strength of the Med- 
way were plainly discovered, we were at least eight miles dead to 
windward in the southeast trades, blowing a fresh topgallant breeze. 
Our log was marked during the chase 8.^ knots to 9 — the Medway's, 
9 to 9|, making a difference in head-reaching of half a mile per 
hour. How then, in the name of common sense, could she with 
these comparative rates, have weathered upon us eight miles, in not 
much more than as many hours, had we not most foolishly destroyed 
our trim ? — Every tactician must pronounce it impossible. 

(j) J>^ow is the time, <^c. {p. 40.) 

When the Medway had gained the Siren's wake, and was still 
two miles distant, it appears to me, imperious duty demanded the 
brig should be put before the wind. It was entreated of the Com- 
mander, that it might be done. He affected to think it useless, and 
it appeared the steering-sails had been thrown overboard. It was 
like clipping the wings of the falcon to expedite his flight. It was 
afterwards demonstrated, the Siren was the better sailer of the two 
before the wind. 



220 NOTES. 



(Jc) Charles of Sweden music sweet, (p. 42.) 

It is recorded of the Swedish Charles that in his first field, he 
inquired of an officer near him, what whistling sound it was, he so 
frcq lently heard near him. It is the noise of bullets, Sire, fired 
at your majesty, replied the officer. Henceforward, then, said the 
king, they shall be my music. 



THE CHESAPEAKE AND SHANNON. 

(l) When the high ship-boy on the yard. (p. 44.) 

It is customary in the naval service to keep a man at each mast- 
head during the continuance of daylight, for the purpose of distant 
observation, whose loud cry of" Sail ho !" indicates the appearance 
of a vessel upon tlie verge of the horizon. The practice is con- 
tinued in time of war, when at anchor in roadsteads or harbours, 
whence the sea can be seen. The Chesapeake lay in President's 
roads, when the Shannon was discovered from her mast-head. 

(hi) The mizen-mast barque rigged in vain. {p. 45.) 

The Shannon had been rigged in this manner, probably with a 
view to deceive merchantmen. do not believe any deception was 
ever intended towai'da Lawx-ence, whom Broke certainly considered, 
an antagonist every way worthy of him. — See his own language in 
the subsequent note (s). 

(n) The dark black canvass proved it too. (p. 45.) 

Tlie English canvass is remarkably dark, when contrasted with 
the snow white Russian canvass, of which the American sails were 
generally made. It is one of the most distinguishing marks, and 
will hrst attract the observation of a seaman, when decis-ing '.:pon 
the national character of a vessel. The English naval canvass has 
a blue serpentine mark running through it, known as the " rogue's 
mark," which effectually prevents its embezzlement. 



(o) But there tcere some or aioed or eold. (p, 45.) 

There was considerable dissatisfactien among the men, on ac- 
count of not having received their prize money for the previous 
cruise. The officers had been paid their proportion soon after the 
return of the ship to port ; then why it was withheld from the 
men, I know not. The prize agent could no doubt account in a 
few %vords. It was a large sum of money, and a month's interest 
was no contemptible thing. Many of our petty officers and seamen 
had families ; they wished to leave their pittance, perhaps their 
labt, with them j they had been promised from time to time, yet 
the money came not, until the last moment. Mr. Chew, the pur- 
ser, had just commenced paying the men, when the appearance of 
the Shannon put an end to it then, and in the sequel to many of 
them forever. Is it to be supposed the men would be satisfied at 
the withholding of their prize money, when they knew their officers 
had been paid a month before ? There never was any disinclina- 
tion manifested to meet the enemy. And with the exception of 
some tu'o or three, the men conducted themselves well and bravely 
in battle. 

{])) While whirling capstans heaving roimd. (jp. 46.) 

On board merchant ships the usual operation of lifting an anchor 
is performed by a windlass and handspikes, but on board the ship 
of war, the cable is hove in by a capstan, or capstern, around 
which the turns of a messenger are taken. The cable and mes- 
senger are bound together with pieces of cordage which are put ou 
by the topmen near the hawse, and taken off at the main hatch ; 
the revolving or turning round of tke capstan, as it winds along the 
messenger, mi:st of course bring along with it the cable, and final- 
ly lift the anchor from the ground until it reaches the surface of the 
water, when the "cat-hook" is applied to the ring, and by means 
of a tackle, lifted entirely out of the water. The "fish-hook" is 
then fastened on the lower part of the anchor, and then by means 
of the fish-tackle, the flukes are swayed sufficiently high to be se- 
cured by the lashings. In large ships there are two or more cap- 
stans on the difterent decks, the united force of which is required 
to lift an anchor. 



22ai NOTES. 



(q) What sound is that ? — the thrilling cheer, {p. 49.) 

While the Chesapeake was unmooring and preparing for battle 
a large sloop filled with gentlemen from Boston, who had embarked 
for the purpose of witnessing the expected engagement, luffed to 
under our stern, and gave us three hearty cheers, which we cordially 
returned. Many others followed us out and witnessed the encoun- 
ter at a respectful distance. The interest of the country was in- 
tensely aroused, and we soon began to see the numerous hills of 
Massachusetts Bay crowned with the excited masses of our fellow- 
citizens. 

(r) And mimic Iris round the hows. (p. 50.) 

In a bright sun, with a fine breeze, amid the foam and spray round 
the prow of the ship when dashing through the waters, sportive 
miniature rainbows may be seen perpetually dancing. 

(s) A challenge I am sent to bear. (p. 51.) 

When within two or three miles of the Shannon, we passed a 
little pink-stern boat, whose master hailed us, and said, he had a 
challenge for us. Captain Lawrence only replied to him by inquir- 
ing what ship it was, and her force. He was ignorant of her name, 
he answered ; but continued, she was much about our own. We 
passed the little boat rapidly, and had no farther parlance with him. 
The skipper took the written challenge to Boston, in Broke's hand- 
%vriting. It speaks well for Captain Broke. I am willing to do a 
brave enemy justice, and therefore subjoin it. 

His Britannic Majtsty''s Ship Shannon, ) 
Off Boston, June, 1813. J 

Sir, — As the Chesapeake appears now ready for sea, I request 
you will do me the favour to meet the Shannon with her, ship to 
ship, to try the fortune of our respective flags. To an officer of 
your character it requires some apology for proceeding to further 
particulars. Be assured, sir, that it is not from any doubt I can 
entertain of your wishing to close with my proposal, but merely to 
provide an answer to any objection which might be made, and very 
reasonably, upon the chance of our receiving unfair support. 

After the diligent attention which we had paid to commodore 



S2S 



Rodgers, the pains I took to detach all force but the Shannon and 
Tenedos, to such a distance that they could not possibly join in any 
action fought in sight of the capes, and the various verbal messages 
which had been sent into Boston to that effect ; we-vvere much dis- 
appointed to find the commodore had eluded us by sailing on the 
first change, after the prevailing easterly winds had obliged us to 
keep an offing from the coast. He, perhaps, wished for some 
sb'onger assurance of a fair meeting. 1 am, therefore induced to 
address you more particularly, and to assure you that what I write 
I pledge my hnnnnr to perform to the utmost of my power. 

The Shannon mounts twenty-four guns upon her broadside, and 
one light boat gun ; eighteen pounders on her main deck, and thir- 
ty-two pound carronades on her quarter deck and forecastle, and is 
manned with a complement of three hundred men and boys, (a large 
proportion of the latter,) besides thirty seamen, boys and passen- 
gers, who were taken out of recaptured vessels lately. I am thus 
minute, because a report has prevailed in some of the Boston papers 
that we had one hundred and fifty men, additional, lent us from the 
La Hoguc, which really never was the case. La Hogue has now 
gone to Halifix for provisions, and I will send all other ships be- 
yond the power of interfering with us, and meet you wherever it is 
most agreeable to you, within the limits^ of the undermentioned 
rendezvous, viz. — 

From six to ten leagues east of Cape Cod lighthouse, from eight 
to ten leagues east of Cape Ann's light, on Cashe's Ledge, in latitude 
43^ north, at any bearing and distance you plaase to fix off the 
south breakers of Nantucket, or the shoal on St. George's Bank. 

If you will favour me with any plan of signals or telegraph, I 
will warn you, (if sailing under this promise,) should any of my 
friends be too nigh, or any where in sight, until I can detach them 
out of my way , or I v/ould sail with you under a flag of truce to 
any place you think safest from our cruizers, hauling it down when 
fair to begin hostilities. 

You must, sir, be aware that my proposals are highly advanta- 
geous to you, as you cannot proceed to sea singly in the Chesapeake 
without imminent risk of being crushed by the superior force of the 
numerous British squadrons which are now abroad, where all your 
efforts, in case of a rencontre, would, hov/ever gallant, be perfectly 
liopeless, I entreat you, sir, not to imagine that I am urged by 



£24 



Bfiere personal vapity to the ivish of meeting the Chesapeate ; or 
that I depend only upon your personal ambition for your acceding 
to this invitation — we have both nobler motives. You will feel it 
as a compliment if I say, that the result of our meeting may be 
the most grateful service I can render to my country ; and I doubt 
not, that you, equfilly confident of success, will feel convinced, that 
'it is only the repeated triumphs in even combats, that your little navy 
can now hop^ to console your country for the loss of that trade it 
can no longer protect. Favour me with a speedy reply. We are 
short of provisions and water, and cannot stay long here. 
I have the honour to be, sir, 

Your obedient humble servant — 
{Signed,) P. B. V. BROKE, 

Capt. of H. B. M. Ship Shannon. 
N. B. For the general service of watching your coast, it is re- 
quisite for me to keep another ship in company, to support me witlj 
her guns and boats when employed near the land, and particularly 
to aid each other, if either ship in chase, should get on shore. You 
must be aware that I cannot, consistently with my duty, waive so 
great an advantage for this general service, by detaching my con- 
sort, without an assurance on your part of meeting me directly ; 
and that you will neither seek nor admit aid from any other of your 
armed vessels, if I detach mine expressly for the sake of meeting 
you. Should any special order restrain you from thus answering a 
formal challenge, you may yet oblige me by keeping my proposal a 
secret, and appoint any place you like to meet us, (within three 
hundred miles of Boston,) in a given number of days after your 
sail ; as unless you s^ree to an interview, I may be busied on other 
service, and perhaps be at a distance from Boston, when you go to 
sea. Choose your terms — but let us meet- 
To the Commander of (he U. S. Frigate Chesapeake. 

ENDORSEMENT ON THE ENVELOPE. 

We have thirteen American prisoners on board, which I will give 
you for as many British sailors, if you will send them out, other- 
wise, being privateersmen, they mustbe detained. 

(0 Our guns no longer now can bear. (p. 56.) 
In passing to windward of the Shannon, within pistol shot, we 
nrcd the two s;uns I had the immediate command of three times 



225 



each, trebly shotted. They were loaded the fourth time and run 
out, when the captain of one of the guns informed me he could not 
bring it to bear, that is, the enemy could not be aimed at to be 
struck. I immediately went to the port, and saw that the Shannon 
had dropped too far astern to be injured from my guns. 

(«) *' Boarders awayV* (p. 56.) 

It was while in a state of inaction, produced by not being able to 
bring: my guns to bear, I heard a voice from the quarter-deck above 
me, call "Boarders away T' During thp first cruise of that ship, 
under the command of Capt. Evans, the boarders were summoned 
to the .upper deck by the beat of drum. Capt. Lawrence thought 
fit to make several changes in the discipline on board, when he as- 
sumed the command, and among others made the unfortunate one 
of substituting the trumpet for the drum. A black man was select- 
ed to pv"rform the office, who could fill the instrument but indifter- 
ently. He had not the most distant claim of being a musician, yet 
he could blow a strong blast. That satisfied Capt. Lawrence, he 
would answer. It never occurred to the Captain that the negro's 
wind might fail in battle, which it appeared effectually to do ; for 
when commanded to summon the boarders from below, he could 
not raise a sound. The Shannon more judicipusly called away her 
boarders by the ringing of her bell. It was thus it happened the 
Chesapeake's boarders were not brought up to repel the enemy, 
whither I am confident they would have repaired with the greatest 
alacrity, had they heard the ord..r. I saw no hesitation in the small 
party I commanded 5 they rushed instantly to the quarter-deck. 

(w) Here maiden let me draw the veil. (p. 59.) 

There %vere excesses committed on board the Chesapeake after 
resistance had ceased. It is no doubt difficult to stay the work of 
death, when a town is stormed, or a ship boarded. Broke was too 
desperately wounded himself to be fully sensible of what was going 
on, though as one instance, he certainly saved the life of Midship- 
man Randolph, who was about to be immolated by his men, long 
after resistance had ceased. Though I am willing to make every allow- 
ance for the heat of blood and the strife of battle, I am willing to 



226 NOTES. 

make none for the blackguard ungentlemanly conduct of Lieutenant 
Faulkner who was placed in command of the captured Chesapeake. 
The meanness that could dictate the order to withhold from Capt. 
Lawrence, wounded and dying as he was; a bottle of wine from his 
own ample stores, without a requisition from the surgeon, is almost 
inconceiA'able, and surely deserves execration. The side arms of 
the wounded Americans were demanded by this disgrace to the 
British navy, and worn by him and his Midshipmen before our faces. 
The swords of oflficers are their private property, and they have 
always been regarded as sacred when we were vlotoro. There has 
ever been a murteay and frankness in our treatment of English 
prisoners, that met with no return in this case. 

(x) Unlike that frigate, ^c. 0).6O.) 

The frigate Philadelphia was given away to Tripolitan gun-boats^ 
very much in the same manner a celebrated post was surrendered 
on the American lines last war. The effusion of human blood was 
Spared in both cases. The historian says little about it, but no 
doubt it is a promising subject for the Arabian muse. The effect 
produced by gun-boats and barges on a forty-four gun frigate, 
which had accidentally grounded, and when the tide fell, sued a few 
feet, might easily by them be imputed to the race of the genii, or 
.some other enchanters or wonder-workers. A whole squadron of 
our gun-boats in a day's battle, could not capture an English sloop- 
oP war in Delaware bay : but on the contrary she fitted out her 
barges and captured one of the gun-boats. There is not so much 
tide in the Mediterranean, that the ship would sue sufficiently to be 
crushed by her own weight. The Turks in a short time got he.r 
off safe and souMd. Truly our navy was then in its infancy. It is 
only astonishing to find how instantaneous was the transition from 
the swaddling clothes and bib, to the toga of manhood. The blaze 
of f lecatur's feat has been like that of a brilliant meteor for the 
navy to steer by ever since ; it is only a matter of surprise, that 
any could stumble in so bright a light as was thence diffused. It 
appears, however, to have been the family prerogative to give away 
rbips. The Frolic was forgetful whence she derived her name, 

" but we, shrink we ? 

The lofty ai e their own high law ; dull codes, 



KOTES. 227 



€old customs Irammel but the base ; our sins 

Shall l>e the wanderings of the meteor fire, 

More wondered than thf regular calm stars : 

Our acting shall ennoble what tame tongues 

Faher at, even in word ; opinions, hues 

Shall at our haugfhty bidding shift and change, 

And what we do, shall therefore be called great." Samor. 



FITZGEORGE'S NARRATIVE 



(aa) Hispanici's queen, SfC. {p. 122.) 

There is a current tradition at Gibraltar, that during the celebra- 
ted seige which that fortress withstood under General Elliot, the 
queen of Spain came to the village of St. Roque in plain view of 
the Rock, and only six or seven miles distant. There in the confi- 
dence of victory, she vowed she Avould remain until the flag of Spain 
supplanted that of England. The efforts of Castile and Arragon 
were in vain. The English maintained the Rock until the general 
peace, which secured their conquest, and our independence, when 
the courteous Elliot (as the story says,) hoisted the banner of Spain, 
and consequently released the queen from her vow. 

(bb) Which in his wake had burned too bright, (p. 126.) 

Wake, in the usual acceptation, means the fleeting track im- 
pressed by a ship in passing through the Avatcr, but it is likewise 
applied by seamen to that line of reflected light caused by the rising 
and setting sun, or moon. Thus, " in the sun's, or moon's wake," 
aire familiar terms. 



<228 NOTES. 

LAMENT, 

Oy THE DEATH OF THE KING OF THE All^. 

(cc) Golden Eagle, (p. 197.) 

"One of these towering monarchs of the feathery race, peculiar 
to the mountains of our country, recently met an untimely 
fate, while haply wandering from his eyry among some of 
the adjacent cliffs, from the steady nerve and sure aim of 
one of our neighbours, whose single prowess with a well charged 
piece had long ere this been tested. This magnificent bird was 
discovered and killed on Croton or Teller's Point, about two miles 
from this village, a short time since. The following description 
has been furnished us from the scene of death, written, for aught 
we know, with a golden quill plucked from the roycd sufferer's ex- 
pansive wing, while distended upon the unconscious earth; it should 
have been received some time ago :"' 

" F(dal occurrence to a niUive of the mountains. — »4 Golden Eagle 

was shot by W m A. U l, on Croton point, on the 23d 

of 2d month, 1826, and was measured in the presence of several 
respectable people — across the wings from end to end seven feet 
eighi inches, from his beak to his feet three feet — his beak was three 
inches in length, and four and five eighths in circumference — sup- 
posed to be a ycar'.ln?; " 



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